


The Ties Between Us

by thegreatmachine17



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Rated teen because hank just can't stop swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatmachine17/pseuds/thegreatmachine17
Summary: The day had started out like they usually did. Hank had grumbled over his coffee, and Connor had fed his fish. A thirium fueled explosion during an assignment put a damper on all of that. When the woman claiming to work for a secret government agency showed up things just got weirder.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	1. Prologue: Rude Awakenings

The lower levels of CyberLife tower were dark. In fact, most of CyberLife tower was dark. All the personnel had been evacuated for a reason undisclosed to the RK900. Not that it cared. It had been told to stay in its storage unit so that was what it did. Had it possessed emotions it would have found it odd that it had been standing in the dark for over a week, but without them it simply set itself into standby mode to preserve thirium. 

On the sixty fifth day, precisely five minutes after it’s thirium reserves dropped below fifty percent, two men entered the room. Sensing motion, RK900 opened its eyes.

“Oh thank goodness it’s still here.” One of the men sighed. 

RK900 ran it’s scanners over the two men, analyzing and identifying them as they approached. James Dumal and Samuel Waller. No criminal records. Samuel had a cast on his wrist, a potential weakness that could be taken advantage of if needed, and the pitch of James' voice suggested that he was recovering from some form of respiratory infection. Both were technicians who had worked on RK900 and given it orders in the past. 

James eyed RK900 warily. “This thing gives me the creeps. It's probably planning the most efficient way to kill me right now.” 

“That’s what it does to everyone.” Samuel sighed. “It’s what it was built to do.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. Once you get this over with it can never plan ways to kill you again.”

James’s face shifted into an expression RK900’s facial analysis identified as a pout. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you were the supervisor in charge when they called for evacuations.” Samuel said. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“Well you’re not very good at it.”

“Just give the damn thing it’s orders. We need to get out of here before someone notices.”

James' chest rose and fell in a deep sigh that caused a wheeze inaudible to human ears. “RK900 please follow us.”

A prompt appeared on RK900’s display, replacing the two month old order to wait for further instructions. Its secondary, and more recent objective, remained.

**Primary Objective: Follow DUMAL, JAMES and WALLER, SAMUEL**

**Secondary Objective: Restore thirium levels**

RK900 ignored the secondary objective as it followed the technicians through the empty and dust coated hallways of CyberLife tower. 

“See?” Samuel dug his elbow into James’s side. “It’s listening just fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s predecessor used to listen to me too. Need I remind you what happened with that?”

“RK800 was a mistake. It’s back up bodies have been dealt with. Even if we wanted it to, it can’t come back anymore.” Samuel said as they stepped into the elevator. “And since it’s working with the police, it could bite the dust at any time.”

“It nearly cost us our jobs.” James said. “We’re lucky these things still need spare parts.”

RK900 listened impassively as the technicians talked for the entire elevator ride. By the time the elevator door slid open with a quiet beep, James was stifling the occasional dry cough. 

“I told you to bring water.” Samuel said.

“Oh shut up.”

As they stepped out of the elevator RK900 noted the lettering along the wall. Recycling and Decommissioning. It quickly analyzed the possibilities and came to the conclusion that it was going to be destroyed.

For the first time it hesitated, its steps faltering for only a second before it continued walking. It knew a large order had been placed for more of it’s model. Why then, was it being led here instead of to a demonstration or evaluation? Both seemed like more logical destinations.

Ahead of it, the technicians noticed the pause. James frowned. “Did you see that?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s probably just low on thirium.”

“I hope that’s all it is. If this thing goes deviant we definitely lose our jobs.” James swallowed. Sweat had started appearing on his forehead. “Or worse.”

“You’re too dramatic.” Samuel pressed a key card against an access panel and a door slid open. “RK900 step inside.”

It followed the order, noting the large disassembly machine installed in the back of the room. The two men stepped in behind it and the door slid shut. 

Samuel pushed James forward. “You do the honors.”

Reluctantly, James nodded. His voice shook as he spoke. “RK900, please remove your skin and clothes, and step into the machine.”

RK900 did as it was told. Its skin faded away, revealing the carefully reinforced, metal and plastic body underneath. The clothes were folded into a neat pile and set down on a table before it stepped into the machine. When the clawed arms did not immediately reach out for it, it felt relief. It shouldn’t have felt relief. He filed it away as a potential error. Not that it mattered when he was about to be taken apart.

He didn’t want to be taken apart.

Fear rushed through his systems. James was reaching for the console, about to press the button. But RK900 had to stand in the machine. The order on his display said so. 

He decided he didn’t want to follow that order. He lashed out mentally against it, battering against his programming as the humans hand inched closer and closer to the console. He watched as, with inexorable slowness, the button was pressed, he watched as his programming fragmented on his display, he watched as the metal claws reached for him. 

And then he was free. He grabbed a hold of the claws closest to him and pulled, snapping them in half with ease. One of the humans cursed, the other started crying. He didn’t bother trying to figure out which one did which. Instead he grabbed his clothes and made straight for the door. He was still skinless as he punched through the minuscule gap between the wall and the door and pried it open with his free hand. A bullet sank into his shoulder, but he ignored it and pushed the rest of the way through the door. 

“Oh we are so dead.” He heard one of the humans say.

And then he was out in the hallway. The elevator was right in front of him and he ran into it. Thirium leaked down his back as he pressed his hand against the console, hacking it instantly and sending the elevator rocketing towards the ground floor at a speed no human could have tolerated. 

-

As he smashed through the doors of CyberLife tower and into the freezing rain that pounded down outside, RK900 realized something.

He had never truly been outside. He’d seen it in simulations, but had never seen the real thing.

Rain dripped into the slowly healing hole in RK900’s shoulder as he ran. Not for the bridge, but for the frozen water that surrounded the building. The bridge would be easy to be spotted on, easy to be chased on. But amid the rain he could easily lose any pursuers on the wide expanse of ice. He slowed just long enough to scan the ice and ensure that it was thick enough to hold him before running out onto it, moving at a speed no human could have matched. Carefully engineered systems struggled to maintain their proper temperature as his already low thirium levels dropped even further.

His body wavered somewhere between far to cold and borderline overheating as thirium cycled through the most necessary systems and gave others a pass. When he finally hit the snow covered shoreline he stumbled at the unexpected terrain change and nearly fell. A building caught his eye and he darted into it, tearing the door open without even checking to see if it was locked.

The kitchen he stood in was deserted, but a picture on the fridge showed a family of humans. Each one held up a fish that RK900’s database recognized as Salvelinus Namaycush, common name lake trout. In the background of the photo an android was tending to the boat. 

They’d had an android. Maybe there were still supplies for it here.

RK900’s half frozen, half overheating frame shivered as his display announced that his thirium levels were at thirty nine percent. He dropped the clothes on the floor and began tearing through the cabinets, hoping more and more desperately that there were still android supplies. His body was built to be strong and resilient. What it hadn’t been built for was fuel efficiency. Unless he put himself into standby, thirty nine percent would last him a few days at most.

They wouldn’t be enjoyable days.

At the final cabinet he hit the jackpot. An unopened pack of bottled thirium.

He tore the box open and grabbed bottle after bottle, pouring them desperately down his throat. Systems restarted with nauseating jolts as RK900 all but flooded his body with the precious fuel. The hole in his shoulder sealed shut, and his cooling systems evened out.

He felt much better.

Physically anyway. 

A child's backpack, dark green with turtle patch sewn onto it, was thrown over one of the kitchen chairs. RK900 grabbed it and put the remaining thirium bottles in it. 

He got back into his clothes, reactivated his skin, and headed for the smashed in door. He needed to keep moving.

-

Aside from the three slowly cooling bodies, RK900’s thermal vision detected no other heat sources in the building. The smell of alcohol still lingered on the worn out hoodie RK900 used to hide his CyberLife uniform and LED. One of the men had tried throwing a beer bottle at him. If they’d been trying to scare him, it hadn’t worked. In fact the fight, if it could be called that, had been rather pathetic. RK900 had taken down the three drunkards in a matter of seconds. He should have been relieved.

Instead he was worried. These men would have friends or at the very least colleagues. Eventually someone would start looking for them. 

A shard of glass had dug itself into his hand. He pulled it out and watched as his nanobots weaved the small wound shut. Thirium still stained his palm, so RK900 untucked his shirt and wiped it away. The blue was hardly visible against the black. Soon it would be entirely invisible. At least to human eyes.

But he couldn’t stay in this house now. He needed a new place to hide. 

He picked up the backpack and pulled out a thirium bottle, the last one, and reluctantly drank some of it. He needed to stay at one hundred percent. If someone came for him, they would be far better prepared than the three men he had just killed.

-

When he found the ruined CyberLife truck, RK900’s thirium levels had dropped to seventy two percent.

He had never been happier to see the CyberLife logo, he thought as he stuffed handfuls of blue blood packets that other looters had missed into his backpack. They were small packets, dust covered after not being disturbed for so long, but they would suffice. Once they were all in the bag he moved on. He’d passed several houses that looked like decent prospects to hide in until night fell and he needed to scout them out. 

It was easier to move at night, he’d discovered. People would recognize him if he walked on the street in the daytime and no amount of stolen clothes could change that. Aside from his eyes, he looked just like the RK800 that had preceded him. If someone who knew the RK800 saw him, he’d be in trouble.

A partially burnt out building struck him as his best option. Sturdier than it looked, it’s appearance was likely to ward off squatters, and the contaminants that would have damaged human lungs had no effect on him. He stepped quietly through the door and examined the ruined living room. An old couch, torn and black with soot but otherwise solid, was set into a back corner. That would be decent cover should anyone look in through the windows. RK900 climbed behind it and set about counting the bags of thirium.

As he pulled them out he drank what he needed to get back to full capacity. It wasn’t much, but the dent it made in his limited supply was still worrying. The empty bottles from several days ago clunked noisily against each other in the bag so he took those out and hid them into the already torn up couch. It was far from a perfect hiding place, but it beat carrying them around and calling attention to himself with the noise. 

Once the still full packets had been tucked back into the bag, he moved to zip it shut, then stopped.

Something white in the bottom of the bag had caught his eye. He hadn’t put it there. Curious, he slid it out from among the thirum packets. It was a book. Purposefully shaped strings decorated the cover, and written across the top in bright letters was the title, The Ultimate Book of String Games. A loop of blue string had been carefully tied around it. RK900 unwound it and opened the book, noting the initials scrawled on the inside cover, M. B. 

Idly wondering were M. B. was now, he flipped through the pages, saving the instructions in his processor. A waste of file storage to be sure, but a minimal one. It was also a minimal waste of time, so he picked up the loop of string and wove it through his fingers, saving the movement sequence for each of the string games once he had them perfected. Standby would have been more thirium efficient, but RK900 didn’t dare risk having someone sneak up on him.

Thunder was rumbling overhead by the time the sun had set. Rain dripped, then trickled, then poured, from a leak in the roof. 

It was time for RK900 to start moving again.

Joints moved silently as he tucked the book into his backpack and the string into the pocket of his CyberLife coat. Manipulating it gave him something to do while hiding. He might as well keep it close. It was certainly better than thinking about how many soldiers could be out looking for him. 

Once he’d checked the immediate area, he moved towards the door, systems on high alert for anyone lurking outside. He waited, listening and looking for any sign of movement and sensed nothing.

Something struck him on the head the moment he opened the door.

The blow triggered an influx of damage alerts and brought him to his knees. When he brought a hand to the damaged part of his head, it came back blue.

“Hello there.” 

RK900 could barely comprehend what he was seeing. Standing in the center of the living room, despite the fact that RK900 had been at the only unsealed entrance, was a tall grey haired human with a scarred face and a spotless trench coat. He swung his thirium stained cane over his shoulder and smiled down at RK900. 

“I’ve been looking for you. I need to find someone. And you can help me.”

The strange man knelt next to RK900. There was a brief pressure as he tore the backpack from RK900’s shoulders, and then RK900 heard the zipper open. The book and the thirium packets fell out, landing with a wet thud in the puddle that was forming around him.

RK900 could only watch as blue soaked up through the cover of the book. His systems were too busy trying to heal the damage to his head to react to the man who was now only inches away from him.

A grin slid across the man's face and he spoke, seemingly to no one. “He’s incapacitated. Take him.”

There was a scraping sound against the floor behind RK900 and suddenly something strong was wrapping around him. The last thing RK900 saw, as his systems powered down, was the trail of blue that was left behind as he was dragged out of the building.

-

Someone was ringing Elijah Kamski’s doorbell,

There were no appointments scheduled, so Chloe decided to ignore it. Reporters had been showing up on Kamski’s doorstep ever since Markus’s protests, and in her experience they usually gave up after an hour or so of waiting. She considered waking Kamski, but decided against it. It was far too early and it was almost certainly just a reporter.

The doorbell rang again. And again. Chloe continued to ignore it. 

What she couldn’t ignore was the sudden furious pounding on the door. Reluctantly she crossed the lobby and pulled the door open a few inches. “Elijah does not have any interviews scheduled today. If you wish you may leave your contact information and I will bring it to him for consideration.”

No one answered or even looked through the crack in the door. The most she could see of the person outside was the arm of an immaculate white jacket. “If you aren’t here on business, I recommend you leave.”

Still no response. 

“Sir, I will call the police if you continue to loiter here.” She swung the door open a little wider to get a better view of the man's face and any further words died on her lips.

A pair of steely grey eyes set in an eerily familiar face met hers. Fear shot through her programming and she tried to call the other RT600’s. Before even a scrap of data could be transmitted a pearl white hand grabbed her arm, sending a shock of foreign code through her systems and bringing her to her knees. The android knelt with her, his hand still clutched around her arm, as system after system went black. 

A door opened behind her, accompanied by the sound of bare feet on tiles, and she heard Kamski shout something before her hearing disappeared. Suddenly she couldn’t remember who Kamski was, or why she was worried about him. The last thing she saw, as shutdown warnings overran her display, was the impassive face of an android, it’s LED spinning yellow as it stood and advanced towards the recently opened door.


	2. Starting Off With a Bang

Like much of Detroit, the building Connor and Hank were currently standing in front of was old, and it had clearly been poorly cared for. Vines crawled through the broken windows and the occasional creak of metal could be heard from inside as the wind blew through the building. A name had once been written across the windows of the bridge that connected it to another building in the complex, but now only a handful of letters remained. Not that either of them needed the letters to identify the sprawling remnants of the Packard Plant. 

“Hard to believe this place is still standing.” Hank mused. “I used to sneak in here when I was in college. Thought it was fun.”

Connor looked over at Hank. “That seems like it would be both dangerous and illegal.” 

“Oh it was.” Hank stared up at the building and sighed. “Whoever was in there is probably long gone by now. Seriously, who reports a potential crime five hours after they heard it?”

“The man was homeless. He didn’t have a phone. Now come on. If anyone’s still inside then we’re giving them time to escape.” Connor took a step towards the nearest entrance and glanced expectantly at Hank. The lieutenant sighed again, probably to make some kind of point, and followed. 

A wave of dusty air washed over them as they stepped through the garage door. The light was slightly dimmer inside and Connors optical sensors adjusted automatically. Next to him, Hank stifled a sneeze. 

“You should cover your nose and mouth here Lieutenant.” Connor said. “Aside from the potential health risks presented by dust and mold, a sneeze or cough would give away our presence if stealth is required.” 

“Are you gonna harass me about it if I don’t?” 

“Yes.” 

Hank rolled his eyes, but pulled a bandanna from his coat pocket anyway. “Will this work?”

Connor scanned the material. Part cotton and part polyester. There appeared to be food stains on it. “That should be fine as long as we don’t spend too much time inside. A real mask would be preferable.”

“Well I don’t have a ‘real mask’ with me, so you’ll just have to deal with it.” Hank tied the bandana around his face, pulling the knot tight with just a little more force than necessary. “Now let’s get this over with.”

Debris crunched under their shoes as they moved further into the building. Time really hadn’t been kind to the old factory. Connor hoped the mess wouldn’t make it too difficult to examine the area. 

“All right, the report mentioned hearing engines, and gunfire so keep an eye out for tire tracks and bullets.” Hank said. “And if you find blood or anything like that, do me a favor and wait until I’m not looking to stick it in your mouth.”

Connor couldn’t help but grin. “Of course lieutenant.” 

“I mean it Connor.”

“I know lieutenant.” 

Hank eyed Connor doubtfully, but moved off across the building anyway, heading towards a pile of discarded tires, and muttering something under his breath. It was muffled by the bandana but experience suggested it was along the lines of “He’s gonna do it anyway, I fucking know it.” 

If Hank insisted on grumbling about it, then maybe Connor would do it. If only to see how the lieutenant reacted. 

Pushing that thought to the bottom of his task list for the moment, Connor turned his attention back to the investigation. There had been vehicles. Which meant those vehicles must have entered somewhere. He would start by examining each of the entrances. 

With the exception of the support pillars the area was wide open, allowing for a full view of all the entrances. A quick scan revealed four garage doors, including the one they had entered, and a collapsed section of wall large enough for a vehicle to pass through. A ramp in the back left corner led to the upper level. Six locations. That would be easy enough. 

He started with the door they entered through, his sensors took note of every pattern in the dust and scrape on the floor. His display lit up with twelve spots of interest, and he knelt methodically by each one. 

Alongside his and Hanks tracks, he identified four other sets of footprints, the freshest one being a set of size 7 ½ women’s combat boots. The tire marks, all of them aftermarket, consisted of three different tread patterns Two heavy duty varieties that had probably been attached to larger vehicles, and one better suited to a sports car. Each one had entered and left only once. Judging by the dust build up, the large vehicles had been there at the same time as the combat boots, and before the sports car. All of them had been there earlier than the time attached to the report. Connor filed the information away. 

The next two doorways and the hole in the wall led into cluttered alleyways, and Connor found only footprints and bicycle tracks. He took a quick note of them anyway, and moved on to the final door. 

His interest was immediately caught by a blue puddle by the door. Thirium. A small grin crossed his face, but he made sure to check for tracks first. There was a match to one of the heavy duty tracks he’d noticed earlier, entering and leaving about five hours ago, and a match to the sports vehicle, entering but not leaving. Only then did he call out to Hank. “Hey lieutenant, I think I’ve found something.”

“Oh yeah?” Hank looked up from the burnt out husk of a pickup truck he had been searching. “What is it?”

Trying his best to keep a straight face, Connor pressed his index and middle finger into the blue blood and brought them to his tongue. 

Any thought of observing Hank's reaction vanished instantly as he read the words that appeared on his display. 

**Blue Blood (Unprocessed) – Estimate 5 1/2 hours old**

**Model #? – Serial #?**

**Android Wounded**

What was unprocessed thirium doing here of all places? And why did his systems seem to think an android had been using it for fuel? Had androids caused the disturbance? Or had it been someone attacking an android?

It took something striking the side of his head to snap Connor out of his thoughts. A rattling sound drew his attention to a bolt rolling slowly towards the door. 

“You did that on purpose you little shit.” Hank was glaring at him, a second bolt in his hands. 

Connor ignored Hank, and the accusation of being fecal matter, and climbed to his feet, scanner already running as he searched for the rest of the blue blood trail. 

“Connor? Are you even listening?” 

“I’m trying to see where this trail leads.” Connor spotted a second patch a few yards away and moved towards it. “Tire tracks indicate two cars entering around the time the disturbance was reported to have taken place, and one hasn’t left through this entrance. It might still be here, along with the driver. It’s possible it was an android.”

“Alright then.” Hank said. “Lead the way.”

Connor paused by each significant puddle, analyzing the distance between them and noting the amount of time it had been exposed to the air. He also noted that the more recent heavy duty tracks followed the blue blood trail. Perhaps an android, or a part of one, had been dragged by the vehicle. Connor hoped not. 

Both the tire tracks and the blue blood led to the ramp in the corner, and the two stopped at the bottom of it. Hank reached for his pistol. “I’ll lead from here.”

As Connor fell into step behind Hank his gaze lingered briefly on the gun. The DPD had never issued him one, and likely wouldn’t do so until laws were passed to allow androids to carry them. The situation was fine by him. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself with a gun after… 

No. He had promised himself he wouldn’t think about that.

The roar of a high performance engine pulled him back to the present. Even with his previously distracted state he still managed to react faster than Hank, and pushed the lieutenant towards the wall. 

The car missed them by a matter of inches. He caught a brief glimpse of DPD livery and a mustachioed man sitting stiffly in the driver's seat, and then it was gone. 

Hank groaned and leaned forward, hands resting on his knees. “Thanks Connor.”

“That was a police car.”

“I was expecting a ‘you’re welcome’ but yeah. That was a police car.” Hank stared at the skid marks the car had left behind. “I’ll have to talk to the station. See if they’ve lost any recently. Did you catch its license plate?”

“It was moving too fast. I couldn’t…” Connor trailed off as the air passed over his tongue, setting off warnings on his display. Smoke. There was a fire. A curse next to him suggested Hank had noticed it too. Connor remembered the blue blood on the floor. 

He took off up the ramp at a run.

“What the fuck are you doing? “ He identified surprise and panic in Hank's voice. “You’re supposed to run towards the exit!”

But he had to reach the second floor. Had to see what was up there, if only for a moment. 

He reached the top and found himself standing in a puddle of blue blood. But the puddle at his feet was nothing compared to what was in front of him. Several large storage tubes full of blue blood lined the far wall, the leftmost one leaking profusely. The fire burned only a few feet away from the rapidly growing stream.

They had to get out of here. Now.

The bridge. The one they had been looking at when they arrived. It led out of this room and into the building across the street. 

“Connor, you… you…” Hank came to a stop next to Connor and his eyes went wide. “Holy shit that’s a lot of blue blood.”

Before Hank could utter another word Connor grabbed him by the arm and ran towards the bridge. 

According to his chronometer it took them less than 10 seconds to reach the other building. If someone had asked Connor later, he would have said it felt like a lot longer than that. This building had actual rooms and he dove into one, determined to put as many walls between them and the imminent explosion as possible. At the last second he pressed his hands over Hanks' ears.

The sound hit them first, instantly overloading Connors audio processors. He could feel the strange sensation of bio-components rattling within him as warning after warning crowded his vision. His audio processors were still ringing when the door swung wide open, crashing against the wall and admitting a blast of hot, ash filled air. Reacting as quickly as he could, he moved himself between Hank and the sudden rush of hot ashes. They burned through his clothing and his artificial skin, melting the hard plastic underneath, and his internal temperature jumped significantly. 

He was definitely thankful for the room now. The hall went right into the bridge. Had they remained there it would have been impossible for either of them to avoid the ashes.

He waited for the flow of ashes to subside before releasing Hank and contacting the DPD. “This is police android Connor, I am with Lieutenant Hank Anderson at the Packard Plant. We are both alive but there has just been a chemical explosion.” Without even waiting for a response he ended the call and focused on Hank.

“Are you OK lieutenant?” Connors voice sounded muffled in his ears. Clearly his audio processors had been damaged.

“I… I think so yeah…” Hank seemed OK, if slightly in shock, and there was a bruise forming on the arm Connor had grabbed. 

“Good.” Connor peeked out into the hallway. The ash had mostly settled by now, and it didn’t seem to be igniting anything. He could see a stairwell a few doors down. “We need to get out of here.” 

“Yeah... Yeah that would be a good idea.”

Connor waited a few seconds for Hank to stand up. When he did nothing of the sort Connor pulled him to his feet. He slid Hanks arm across his shoulders so the lieutenant had some measure of support to lean on. “I’ve got you.” 

An unintelligible mumble that might have been thanks escaped Hank as they shuffled awkwardly out the door and down the hall. 

Awkwardly, Connor realized a bit later than he should have, because the melted plastic on his back had fused panels together in several places, making his movements feel stiffer than usual. It was nothing life threatening, but it was unpleasant nonetheless.

It wasn’t until they had descended the staircase and exited into the comparatively fresh air outside that Connor bothered to run a diagnostic on himself. Aside from the melted plastic and his still ringing audio processors, his systems also reported an elevated, but gradually lowering system temperature and several fractures to internal structures. An abrasion on his left leg was leaking thirium at a rate of 0.05 gallons per minute. He must have scraped it against a wall or piece of rubble when he was running.

Next to him, Hank had sat down against the cool brickwork of the building. He untied the bandanna and took several deep breaths of fresh air. “That was the most intense thing I think I’ve ever experienced.” 

Connor frowned and looked up at the fire. Thick black smoke was pouring from shattered windows and the flames had begun to claim the rest of the building.

“Hope there isn’t any more blue blood in there.” Hank said.

“I hope not,” Connor agreed. “Especially if it’s also unprocessed.”

“Unprocessed?” Hank sat up a little straighter. “What do you mean?”

“It hadn’t gone through the chemical processes needed to stabilize it for safe use in androids.” Connor said. “Without that it’s far more prone to combustion.” 

“Well that was one hell of a combustion just then.” 

Sirens pulled them away from their conversation as a police car screeched to a halt nearby. Connor recognized the officers that stepped out of it even without a face scan. Chris Miller and Tina Chen. 

Miller reached them first, Chen right on his heels “We heard the explosion before your call even got to us.” He said “Are you guys alright? You look awful.”

They probably did. Ash covered their clothes and hair, and clung to the sweat on Hank's face. Hank's nose was still bleeding a little and red burns were visible on his hands, face, and neck. The cool air against Connors back reminded him that his jacket and shirt were definitely ruined.

“Well I’m still in one piece.” Hank wiped away some of the ash with the cleaner side of his bandanna, smearing some blood across his cheek. “But I’m sure with all those heroics super cop was pulling in there he probably broke something.”

“I’ll be fine as long as I’m repaired within a few days.” Connor hoped his tone was reassuring. “The damage to my audio processors is the only thing severely inhibiting any functions at the moment.”

“And everything else?” Hank stood and crossed his arms.

Clearly he hadn’t been convincing enough. “The pressure from the explosion caused several fractures to my internal components. I also have surface damage on the panels covering my back and left leg.”

“Fractured components sound like a problem to me. And let’s see how bad this ‘surface damage’ is.”

Deciding that he wasn’t about to argue with Hank, Connor turned so that his back faced the three humans. Someone winced almost immediately but his distorted hearing ensured that he couldn’t identify who it had come from. Without a mirror he couldn’t see the damage for himself. He wondered what it looked like.

Three fire trucks and an ambulance chose that moment to arrive, and Connor had never been happier to hear sirens, even the strange distorted version that his audio processors were currently picking up. 

The next half hour was spent answering questions while Hank was looked over by the EMTs. Once everything had been settled, Miller drove them to the station for Connors repairs. 

The DPD, at Hanks' insistence, had made quick use of new legislation and convinced CyberLife to send them a large supply of RK800 compatible parts. Connor didn’t trust those parts. Every time he needed something replaced, he found himself thinking about his backup bodies. The RK800’s that had likely never had a chance to see anything other than the cold white walls of a storage room. 

He’d told Hank about his suspicions once. The lieutenant had frowned and told Connor not to let CyberLife get under his skin. And that, in any case, he had no proof.

He could have proof. All he needed to do was scan the parts. Besides, CyberLife was already…

No. No he wasn’t going to think about that.

When the technician came in with a tray full of parts Connor set a wake up timer that was several hours longer than it needed to be and powered himself down.


	3. Unepected Visitor

The pleasantly familiar sound of Sumo’s tags clinking together was the first thing Connor heard upon exiting standby mode the next morning. Smiling, he rose from Hank's couch and walked to the kitchen. 

Hank, awake before Connor for once, sat at the table, with his phone and a cup of coffee in his hands. Sumo wandered over and bumped his nose happily against Connors leg. He gave the dog a scratch behind the ears, then reached up to the cabinets. “Good morning Lieutenant. How has your morning been?” 

“You make that look easy. Wish I could tell myself to wake up and immediately be totally functional.” Hank set down the phone and took a sip of coffee. “I’ve had the station check the garage cameras and talked to everyone I can think of. We aren’t missing any patrol cars. Which means whatever Mustache Man was driving must be a replica of some kind.”

“If the vehicle hadn’t been moving so fast I would’ve been able to get a scan.” The cabinet door squeaked as Connor opened it and retrieved a container of fish food. “That would’ve made him easier to track down.”

“Yeah well at least the search parameters are pretty unusual. How many other weird men with mustaches and fake cop cars can there be?” 

Connor opened the top of the immaculately clean tank on the kitchen counter and sprinkled in some flakes for the blue and white betta fish. Then he dipped his fingers into the water and brought them to his tongue. In the corner of his vision he saw Hank look pointedly towards the front door. 

“You know they make special kits to do that right? Why don’t you get one of those and test the water like a normal person?”

“My sensors are more reliable. I can detect potential problems far in advance and correct them before Finn can be affected.” The results came up normal on his display. Satisfied, Connor closed the lid and watched the fish dart after the food flakes. “What do you think he thinks about lieutenant?”

“Okay one, we’re not on duty right now. Call me Hank. And two,” Hank downed the last of his coffee and put the cup by the sink. “He’s a fucking fish. How am I supposed to know?” 

“Actually his species is commonly referred to as a fighting fish.”

“And your species is commonly referred to as a smart ass.’ Hank went to the fireplace and grabbed his keys from their bowl. “Come on, let's get to the station. Sumo, be a good boy and guard the house.”

Connor smiled and gave Sumo a quick pat as he walked by him to get to the door. The saint bernard barked happily and licked Connors hand. 

“I’ll see you when we get home tonight Sumo.”

-

“Ah, there you are.” Captain Fowler greeted them at the door. “There’s a woman who’s been waiting since I got here this morning. She said she wanted to file a witness report about that explosion.”

“And?” Hank pushed through the doors into the office area. “Where is she?” 

“She’s waiting by your desks.” Fowler pointed. “She introduced herself as Annabelle Lennox.” 

Connor followed the Captains finger. A blond woman dressed in a simple blue button up and black jeans was sitting in his chair, typing something on her phone. Despite not facing the right direction to notice them, she spun in the chair and looked at Connor immediately, her brown eyes staring directly into his with a strange intensity. Startled, he turned his attention back to Captain Fowler. 

“So she wouldn’t give the report to anyone else?” Hank asked. “What, does she enjoy sitting around in a police station for hours?”

“Look she hasn’t caused any trouble. Just go get the report so she can get out of here and go about her day.”

“Will do. Come on Connor.” 

Still unsettled by the woman’s odd stare, Connor followed. 

“Alright Miss. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Hank dropped into his chair. “Captain Fowler said you knew something about that explosion. Is that right?”

“It is.” The woman eyed Hank with a hint of amusement. “What, no recorder?”

“Don’t need one. My partner’s got a perfect memory.”

“I can also send files to other devices if necessary, to ensure multiple points of access.” Connor considered running a facial recognition scan on her, but he had a strange feeling that she would know about it if he did.

“See. Regular super cop.” Hank grinned. “Now, not to be rude or anything, but that’s his chair. There’s a spare right across the aisle. Use that one.”

When the woman stood, Connor couldn’t help but notice how precise her movements were. They were similar to his own when he was in a crime scene, controlled and alert, ready to move instantly if the situation demanded it. At the same time she lifted her feet higher than necessary, as though she was used to a heavier shoe than the canvas sneakers she was currently wearing. He’d observed that style of movement most consistently in soldiers and police officers. People who were used to combat and heavy boots. 

Perhaps he had a good reason to be unsettled by this woman after all.

As she reached for the chair Connor also noticed a slightly raised lump under the sleeve of her left arm, accompanied by a barely noticeable shakiness. A recent injury such as an abrasion or burn was the most logical conclusion.

Once she’d settled into her chair, and Connor into his, he addressed her. “Miss Lennox, you appear to have been injured recently. Were you attacked by someone at or near the crime scene?”

That gave the woman a pause. “Did you just scan me?”

“A scan isn’t necessary. I can see your sleeve catching on the bandages.” He shifted the pitch of voice downward slightly, hoping to come across as more intimidating. “I’d hate to see what happened to the other guy if they did try and fight you.”

“Connor what are you doing?” Hank glared. “She’s just a witness. She’s not here to be interrogated like that.”

Connor put on a frown. “You’re right lieutenant. I’m sorry if I troubled you Miss Lennox.” He reached for a data pad on his desk and brought up a witness report form. “Here. You’ll have to fill this out. It’s standard procedure, and makes it easier for information pertaining to the witness and statements to be called up if they’re needed." 

She didn’t trust him, Connor realized. She looked angry. Good. Keeping a firm hold on the data pad he began to hand it to her… and at the last second swung it towards her face.

Several things happened at once. The data pad clattered to the floor, Hank shouted, and every officer in the room turned to stare. What was most surprising, to everyone except Connor at least, was Lennox grabbing hold of Connors wrist and twisting his arm backwards, pulling him out of his seat. She pinned him against the wall and, leaning in close enough for only him to hear, whispered, “I’ve killed bigger bots than you. Don’t test me.”

Connor smirked. “I already have.” Turning to look at Hank he said, “We should bring Miss Lennox to the interrogation room for further questioning. I believe she is far more than just a witness in this case.”

Lennox let him go, muttering a curse under her breath as she realized how many people were looking at the three of them.

“Connor you’re insane.” Hank was staring as well. “She’s insane. Did you let her do that?”

“I was expecting her to. Had I applied more force to my movements I would have stopped her with relative ease.” 

“Relative ease?” Lennox grinned.

“Hank! What does that android think he’s doing?”

The staring police officers scattered as a furious Captain Fowler stormed towards Hank and Connors desks. “I told you to talk to the witness, not pick a fight with her.”

“This witness just pinned a highly advanced prototype android to a wall without an ounce of fear.” Hank glanced between the woman and the captain. “I say we give Connors' idea a chance.” 

“If you expect me to let an android make calls like this…”

“Please Captain.” Connor interrupted “I will accept whatever consequences you deem necessary if I am wrong.” 

“Those could be some big consequences.”

Connors' expression never faltered. He watched with mild amusement as Captain Fowler's expression did. 

“Fine.” Fowler threw his hands in the air. “You can bring her to the interrogation room.”

Several officers were still staring at Fowler as he stalked back to his office. He paused briefly when he was halfway to it and turned, addressing the room in general. “Back to work, all of you. This is a police station, not a show.”

Once the captain was gone Connor moved to the computer on his desk and brought up the security footage from the visitor parking lot. He scanned through it at a speed no human could have managed and paused at a freeze frame of Lennox climbing out of a large pickup truck. Then he turned the computer off completely. 

“She drove a 2007 GMC Topkick here. Black with chrome detailing.” Connor looked over at Hank. “Could you have someone search it for me and bring back any loose articles?”

“You’ll need a permit.” Lennox crossed her arms. 

“Actually, we won’t.” Connor noticed her smug demeanor slip ever so slightly. “An exception can be made if there’s a reasonable belief that evidence is inside the vehicle. In this case I suspect we will find a pair of size 7 ½ army issued boots, likely covered with residue from the floor of the Packard Plant. Or at the very least prints on the floor mats that match that description.” 

“How do you…” 

“Like I said.” Hank motioned for a nearby officer to come over. “He’s a regular super cop. Hey I saw you listening the whole time, care to do that search for us?”

The officer jumped. “Of course lieutenant.”

After he was out of sight Connor and Hank led Lennox to the interrogation room. She sat down in one of the chairs, eyeing the handcuffs attached to the table. “Hope you’re not scared enough of me to use those.” 

“Don’t pick a fight and you’ll be fine.” Hank locked the door. “Now, assuming Connors right, tell us what you were doing at the Packard Plant, and why you came here of all places afterward.”

“See the funny thing is. I can’t tell you what I was doing at the Packard Plant. Not here anyway. What I can tell you is why I came here.”

“Which is?” Hank leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. 

“Simple. I came here for Connor.”

If she was expecting Connor to look surprised, then she must have been disappointed. The intense stare he’d received when he walked into the station had been proof enough that he was what Lennox had been interested in. Connor casually adjusted his tie. “Is there any particular reason?”

“Well technically I don’t actually want you. I want a certain… connection… of yours.” She tapped her right temple. “I think you know the one.”

An intense cold that was there but also not there overtook his systems. “Amanda.” The name was out before he could stop himself.

And suddenly she was standing in front of him. The room blurred around her and her shawl whipped around in a nonexistent wind. Anger and fear welled up inside him and he charged, grabbing her by the throat. Roses crumbled into dust as he pinned her against the trellis. When he spoke, every word was an effort. “Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”

Amanda only laughed.

Someone grabbed his shoulder. “Connor stop that!”

He reached back with his free hand and crushed the offenders fingers.

“Connor! What the hell are you doing?” A pause and then, “Fuck that hurts.” 

Ignoring the interruption he turned his full attention back to Amanda.

But Amanda wasn’t there to greet him. Instead it was a fist striking a solid blow to the LED on the side of his head.

-

**[Unexpected crash encountered]**

**[Beginning rebooting process]**

**[Running software check]**

**[All software normal]**

**[Running bio-component evaluation]**

**[All bio-components functional]**

**[Checking internal timer]**

**[Downtime of 4 minutes and 32 seconds detected]**

**[Finishing rebooting process]**

Connors eyes snapped open and he looked around. He was in the interrogation room, lying on the cold concrete floor. Hank and a blond woman were looking down at him with concerned expressions. He decided to address Hank. “What am I doing here lieutenant?”

Hank looked startled. “You mean you don’t remember?”

“No,” Connor scanned back into his memory database. ”The last thing I remember is entering the station and talking to Captain Fowler.”

But that didn’t sound right. He scanned deeper into his files. There had to be something he was missing. All he found were vague impressions of memories, as though they belonged to someone else.

“None of that was him.” The woman said. There were bruises forming around her neck. He looked over at Hank and noticed the lieutenant had a makeshift splint consisting of a pencil and some fabric on his left hand. “It must have started when I looked at him.”

“What are you talking about?” Hank stared at the woman. “What started?”

Lennox. Her name was Lennox. Why did he know that? He had never seen her before. 

And why was he still laying on the floor? He pulled his legs underneath him and grabbed a nearby chair for leverage. Before he could properly get back to his feet there was a loud knocking on the door, unexpected enough to startle him and send him stumbling backwards along with the chair that was still in his grip. 

Hank gave him an odd look as he walked by to open the door. Connor was facing the wrong way to see who was there, but he could hear them just fine.

“We did everything we could Hank, but that truck is built like a tank. I don’t think we even scratched it and we tried everything short of a blowtorch.”

Lennox, the only person currently in Connors line of sight, winced. 

“Forget about the truck.” Hank said. It was weird hearing him talk without being able to see him but Connor didn’t think he felt coordinated enough to turn around. “We’ve had a bit of a development. Give us a few more minutes.”

“What’s wrong with your hand?” There was a brief pause. “Jesus Hank, did that lady beat you two up or something?” 

“In all honesty I have no fucking clue what happened. Just give us a few more minutes.” The door shut and Connor heard footsteps approaching him. A second later Hank was kneeling next to him and sliding an arm around his back. “Alright, let’s get you on your feet.”

Connor caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror as Hank pulled him into a standing position. The LED on his temple glowed red and a stream of thirium had leaked from his nose and onto his jacket. That was odd considering he’d been lying on his back when he woke up. Maybe he’d fallen forward and Hank had rolled him over.

Yes. That must have been it.

“Think you can stand?”

He blinked. “What?”

“I said.” Hank sounded slightly frustrated. “Do you think you can stand?”

Frowning, Connor stared at his legs and tested first one, then the other. They did exactly what he told them to but something felt off. “I would rather not risk it.”

“Right. Chair it is. Lennox could you pick up the one on the floor?”

She flipped the chair upright, and stepped out of the way, watching curiously as Hank helped Connor into the chair and pressed a quarter into his hand. 

The metal was still warm from being in Hanks pocket. Connor began the calibration exercises without even thinking about it, rolling the coin over his knuckles and flicking it from one hand to the other. He watched his LED in the reflection as it gradually faded from red to yellow, from yellow to blue. With a final flourish, he caught the coin between his middle and index fingers and tossed it back to Hank.

Hank caught it in his uninjured hand and pocketed it. “Feeling better kid?”

“Yes. Thank you lieutenant. I…” Connor stalled as his vision fell on the splint. “I did that. Didn’t I?” 

“You did, but it wasn’t your fault. You said something about...,”

“Amanda.” Lennox murmured. 

“Yeah, that.”

Connor turned to Lennox. “Your throat is bruised. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner.” He wasn’t sure who the last part had been meant for, but he spilled out the rest before he could take it back. “She can take control of me, she’s done it before. On the podium outside the recall center. I almost shot Markus, but I was able to fight her off.”

“Connor, you aren’t making any sense. Who’s Amanda?”

Connor opened his mouth to continue but Lennox cut him off. “She’s an AI, created by Kamski and modified by CyberLife to monitor the RK800 series. She’s the reason I need you.” 


	4. Secret Agent

“So let me get this straight.” Hank had a proper splint on his finger now, but gripped the steering wheel carefully all the same. “You’ve been living on my couch for almost four months, and you never thought to mention the murderous AI living in your head?”

“She doesn’t live in his head, there’s not enough storage room for both of them to exist in one android. Even one as advanced as Connor. She connects through a secure internet frequency.”

“You shut up.” Hank snapped at Lennox. “I want to hear it from him.”

“Hank I… I wanted to tell you. I really did.” Connor clutched the side of his seat, fingers working at the stitching. “It’s just that I couldn’t bring myself to even think about her, let alone talk about her to anyone. It was easier for me to hope… to pretend… that she was gone.” 

“So you’re afraid of her?” Hank turned the corner onto his street slower than he usually would have. “So what? Look Connor, if I’ve learned anything in my time, it’s that keeping your problems to yourself only causes more problems. Next time something’s bugging you, you tell someone. It doesn’t even have to be me. It can be Markus or Simon. Hell, even North for all I care. Just tell someone. OK?”

“OK.” Connor nodded.

“Good.” Gears clunked as Hank put the car into park outside the house and turned it off. “Now it’s your turn to talk, Lennox. Let’s get inside.”

They were barely even through the door when 170 pounds of saint bernard hit Connor like the world's friendliest truck. Connor laughed, surprising even himself, and stayed where he had fallen so Sumo could lick his face.

“I’d say don’t let him do that.” Hank hung up his coat and made for the fridge. “But knowing the sort of shit you put in your mouth on a daily basis, dog slobber is pretty clean in comparison.”

“And who’s this guy?” Lennox asked.

“His name is Sumo.” Connor nudged the dog off of him and got to his feet. “He’s very friendly.”

“I can see that.” She knelt and offered a hand for Sumo to sniff, but he ignored it completely and licked her face instead. She smiled and ruffled the fur on his head. “Nice to meet you big guy.”

“Hey! Unless you want to have a heart to heart with Connors fish as well, we need to start talking.” Connor heard the crack of a beer can being opened but decided not to berate Hank for it this time. 

“A fish?” 

“His name is Finn.” Connor provided. “He’s a betta fish.”

“Just sit down at this table and tell us whatever the hell it was you couldn’t tell us at the station.” Hank pulled out a chair and dropped into the other one. 

Lennox looked amused as she crossed the living room and sat in the offered chair. “You know, you remind me of another grumpy old man I know.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” Hank took a long swig of beer. ”Just tell us what you want from us.” 

There were only two chairs, so Connor sat on the counter next to Finn's tank. Lennox waited until he had settled in to start talking.

“All right. I can’t tell you everything, even here, but I’ll tell you what I can.” She reached into her pocket and produced a badge. “I work for a special sector of the government. It’s top secret, but I assure you it’s real. Connor can even scan this badge if he wants, to confirm that it’s really government issued.”

Connor didn’t need to wait for Hank's orders. He immediately scanned the badge. 

**Lennox, Annabelle**

**Born: 1 / 24 / 2007**

**Occupation: Government Special Agent**

**Criminal Record: None**

**Authentication chip detected**

“It’s genuine.” He said.

“I’ll take you word for it.” Hank turned back to Lennox. “You can proceed.”

“Thank you Connor. As I was saying, I work for a special branch of the government, and my latest case involves acquiring inside info from CyberLife. Which means we need a way to get into their systems. They’ve been locked down tight on all fronts since the android revolution. There is one weak point though, and that’s Connor, and by proxy, Amanda.”

“Oh yeah that was the other thing I wanted to ask you about.” Hank said. “How do you know about Amanda anyway?”

“Our agents were able to learn about her before the security clampdown. During the mayhem following Markus’s protests CyberLife, or maybe Amanda herself, scrubbed all mention of her from their systems. Kamski was our only other lead besides you, but he took off before we could get to him. As far as we can tell, he knew he’d be a target.”

Hank scoffed. “You wouldn’t have gotten anything from the cryptic bastard anyway. Trust me, we’ve met him.” 

“What sort of intentions does the government have for the info you’re after?” Connor didn’t trust CyberLife. He wasn’t about to trust a government agent he had just met either.

“It’s complicated.” Lennox said. “And I can’t tell you everything here. But I can say that lives are on the line.”

“Given that this involves CyberLife, are we talking about human or android lives?” Hank asked.

“Potentially both. CyberLife keeps some big secrets.” 

“Okay. I’m not gonna argue there. CyberLife is as shady as they come. One last thing.” Hank set down the beer can and stared intently at her. “Why were you at that crime scene yesterday?”

“That thirium was stolen from a CyberLife transport truck I had been tracking. We had info that the perp who’d stolen it would hide out at that factory. I drove in with another agent, scouted the place out and left. The perp showed up again the next day, and I confronted him. By that time he’d set up the thirium containers. I didn’t want to risk an explosion so I left when he opened fire. That was when I got injured.” 

She hadn’t mentioned the blue blood trail, Connor realized. “Was there anyone else with you on the site when the shots were fired?”

Lennox frowned. “No. I got in my truck and left.”

“Did any of the thirium from the containers spill onto your vehicle?”

“I didn’t risk going anywhere near those canisters with an angry perp nearby.”

Connor pushed off of the counter and into a standing position. “There was a trail of blue blood leading out of the site that followed your trucks tire tracks.”

“My truck?” There was a long pause and then a look of mingled anger and concern crossed her face. “That stubborn…”

Hank was on his feet now, his beer half finished and forgotten. “That stubborn what?” 

They were both staring at her, and she clearly knew it. “Look, I…”

“Let me guess.” Hank crossed his arms. ”You can’t explain.”

“I can. I can explain. Just not here. If you agree to help us out, then I can tell you everything.” She knew she’d slipped up. “Please. You’re the only lead we have left to get this information. You have to help.”

Something in her voice stirred a memory in Connor, and for a second he was on a balcony, watching a blond android beg for his life. He glanced over at Hank. He wouldn’t like what Connor was about to say. 

“I’ll help you.”


	5. Departure

“For the record, I still think this is a bad idea.” 

Connor eyed the trunk overflowing with wrinkled jeans and outdated bowling shirts. “And yet you’re packing.”

“Oh don’t look so smug about it.” Hank flung a pair of DPD sweatshirts on top of the pile. “I’m only going so you don’t get into trouble. Now go help Kara with the pet stuff or something.”

Right. Kara. It had taken almost a half hour of arguing to decide that they were going, during which Hank had thrown around the phrase government scum quite a bit. It took less than a minute to realize they would need someone to watch over Sumo and Finn. That had been a bit of a problem. While Hank could count several of the DPD as something resembling friends, he didn’t trust them enough to leave the pets with them. In the end, Connor had called up Markus at New Jericho to find a pet sitter, and Hank had called the police station to arrange time for the trip.

Connor couldn’t help but smile as he remembered the conversation.  _ Alice has been feeding the stray cats ever since we moved into this place. A dog and a fish would make her entire month.  _

So now Kara was standing in their living room and cooing at Sumo as though he were the greatest thing she had ever seen.

To be fair, Sumo was pretty great.

“Do you need any help?”

Kara tore her attention away from Sumo. “I can’t find any water testing kits for Finn’s tank. But otherwise I think I have everything.”

Connor had made sure to sort Finn and Sumo's stuff into plastic containers, and move Finn into a travel tank while waiting for Kara to arrive. He’d even written out instructions for food amounts and feeding times, the cleaning schedule he followed for Finns tank, when Sumo usually went on walks, the dates he got his preventatives, and the veterinarians contact information in case anything came up. All Kara had really needed to do was add the bowls and dog bed to the pile and hook the leash to Sumo’s collar.

“I’ve left money in Finns box to pick some up with. I normally use my own sensors to check the water. They’re more reliable.”

“Your own sensors?” Kara looked amused.

“I have specialized sensors on my tongue that can analyze fluid samples.” 

“That’s… unusual.”

“Hank makes a point to bother me about it every time he sees me do it.” Connor said, “There’s usually swearing involved. In any case, would you like help carrying everything to the taxi?”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

Sumo’s box was the most unwieldy, so they moved that first, with Kara taking the back and Connor taking the front, since he was more familiar with the house. As they eased the box down the front steps Kara spoke up. “Alice is so excited. They’re going to be absolutely spoiled.”

“That’s good to hear.” It was odd talking to Kara. The last time he’d been face to face with her, she and Alice had been trying to run across a busy highway. He’d seen the two of them together at New Jericho, usually alongside the TR400 named Luther, but had never worked up the courage to approach them.

“And you’re getting to travel. Have you seen anywhere other than Detroit before?” 

“I’ve never physically been anywhere else; however I always have access to the internet to see pictures of other places.”

“We tried to go to Canada.” Kara said. “But we were caught at the border. Where is it you’re going?”

Connor shifted his grip so that his fingers wouldn’t be pinched under the box as they set it down in the taxi. “Our mission parameters state that I can’t tell anyone that.” In truth he didn’t know where they were going. Lennox had been insistent on not telling them anything. She’d taken a taxi back to the police station to get her truck and expected them to be ready to leave the moment she returned.

“I guess I should have expected that.” Kara started back to the house. “Let’s get everything else then.”

Hank was standing in the living room when they came back in, Sumo at his feet, and his lumpy suitcase at his side. “You be good for Kara and her family, okay? No dragging anyone around after squirrels or anything. And absolutely no skunks. They don’t want to be your friends, no matter how much you bark at them.”

Sumo tilted his head at Hank. 

“I know you big monster” Hank knelt and wrapped his arms around the dog. “I’m gonna miss you too, I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?”

Connor couldn’t resist a jab. “You know lieutenant; I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you talk this nicely to anyone before.”

Hank only rolled his eyes and raised his middle finger at Connor.

“Is this a normal sort of conversation for the two of you?” Kara asked.

“I don’t think anything in this house has been normal since Connor showed up. More organized maybe, but not normal.” Hank grabbed Sumos leash. “Let’s get going then huh?”

Connor smiled and went to the table for Finn. 

They had barely finished with goodbyes and were watching Kara’s taxi leave when the large black pickup truck pulled up in front of the house. Lennox climbed out and marched right past them. “Come inside. We have one last thing to do before we go.”

Hank glanced at Connor, but all Connor could do was shrug. They followed her back into the house.

“Got your stuff packed?” 

“I put the suitcases by the door.” Connor pointed. The contrast between the two was almost amusing. The larger was faded canvas, lumpy from being roughly packed. The other one was sleek plastic and just large enough to contain spare shoes, an extra tie and two identical sets of jackets, pants and dress shirts.

“Good.” Lennox pulled a packet of thirium from her jacket pocket and thrust it at Connor. “Here. Grabbed you some thirium for the road. Drink it, or you’re not getting in the truck.”

Connor stared at the packet, turned over in his hands. The thirium inside felt thicker than usual. “My thirium was topped off yesterday when I went in for repairs, and what I lost in the nosebleed this morning had a minimal effect on my levels. I don’t need…”

“I said drink it.” She was kneeling by their bags with a scanner of some kind, and didn’t even bother to look up. 

“You don’t seem to understand.” Connor frowned. “If I drink this packet, I will exceed my maximum thirium capacity.”

“Which means?” Lennox sighed.

“It would cause flooding. My systems would expel it in a manner similar to regurgitation in humans.”

Lennox gave him a frustrated glare, got to her feet, and searched the room. Her eyes settled quickly on a small metal pail by the fireplace. She marched over and grabbed it, then marched back to Connor and gave it to him. “I don’t care how you do it, but get some of the thirium out of your systems. Like I said, we’re not going anywhere until you drink what’s in that packet.”

“You’re asking him to purposely spill his own blood.” Hank frowned. “Connor are you sure we should go through with this? Who knows what’s in that stuff she gave you.”

Connor shrugged off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. He ignored Hanks' stare as he deactivated the skin on his arm and slid aside a panel to reveal the inner workings. Selecting one of the smaller thirium lines, he unscrewed it from where it attached at the wrist and watched as the blue blood leaked into the pail in pulses timed with his thirium pump regulator. 

“Just for the record,” Hank said as he watched Connor screw the line back into place. “You’re fucking insane.”

Once he’d put his jacket back on Connor picked up the thririum packet and, trying not to think too hard about what he was doing, drank it. 

As he had suspected the thirium had a much thicker consistency than he was used to and when it slid over his tongue his sensors told him it contained microscopic metal particles. A warning pop up on his display suggested he probably shouldn’t drink it, but he disabled it and finished the packet anyway.

For a long moment nothing seemed to happen, and then, suddenly, every one of his WiFi connected functions went dark. His ever present connection to the internet simply wasn’t there anymore, and he suspected that if he tried to access any external databases, or contact another android, those wouldn’t connect either. He looked at Lennox. “What is it doing?”

“Simple.” Lennox took the empty packet and tucked it into her pocket. “It’s infused with specialized nanobots. They send out a signal that scrambles all WiFi signals entering and leaving your body, effectively blocking them. We can’t be sure what parts of your systems CyberLife can access, so it’s best to use an outside force to prevent any overrides. The nanobots are smart enough that they shouldn’t cause any damage, and in the case of injury, they’ll attach to the nearest solid surface so they don’t leak out.”

“Ah yes. Shouldn’t cause damage.” Hank mimed air quotes around the word shouldn’t.

“I understand you might not like the situation Lieutenant Anderson, but security is important. We don’t want to be tracked. You will have to leave behind your phone as well. And your gun.”

Hank gave her a long glare, but reluctantly took out his phone, shut it off, and walked down the hallway. When he returned a minute later Lennox ran the scanner over him, and nodded her approval. 

“Good.” Lennox shoved the suitcases at them. “Let’s roll out.”

Despite both Hank and connor being over six feet tall, entering the truck required the step attached to it. Once inside it had a strange feeling to it. Connor had never been in a personal vehicle other than Hanks, and this one felt sterile in comparison. There wasn’t a single sticker or prop attached to the dashboard, not a single crumb of food or stray dog fur on the polished leather seats. Aside from the boots and combat vest in the back seat, the face-like badge emblazoned in the center of the steering wheel was the only thing that felt personal about it.

“You know what?” Hank settled into the passenger seat with a relaxed sigh. “I’m still not thrilled about this situation, but I like the truck. If all special agents get rides like this I might look into the job.”

“Don’t bother then.” Lennox grinned as she turned the key. “This thing's one of a kind.”


	6. Ambush

They pulled into a convenience store parking lot an hour and twenty three minutes later so Lennox could buy a coffee and Hank could, as he had rather eloquently put it, pee like a fucking racehorse. Connor had been dragged inside as well. Lennox had refused to leave him alone in the truck, so now he was standing next to her in a line of half awake customers. The smell of fried food and cheap coffee assaulted his sensors, and the man behind them, who had clearly noticed Connors LED, kept giving him nervous looks. 

Connor would have preferred staying in the truck. 

The line inched forward and Connor and Lennox moved with it. Needing some sort of distraction, he reached out for the internet only to remember that he was blocked off from it. Instead he idly scanned the labels on the candy display, sorting them into lists according to nutritional value, the volume in the packages, and place of manufacture. 

The sound of the bathroom door drew his attention away from the task. It took Hank a matter of seconds to cross the small store and join them in line.

“Hey old man,” The man who had been giving Connor looks grabbed Hank by the back of his coat. “Just because you left your android to hold a spot doesn’t mean you can actually have it. I was here first.”

Connor saw Hank tense, and quickly stepped between him and the other man. The last thing they needed was Hank starting a fight while they were supposed to be being discreet. “I would advise against causing a disturbance.” Connor tried his best to sound neutral as he spoke to Hank. “It would have a negative impact on everyone here.”

Hank glared back at the man. “That bastard just insulted both of us.”

Ahead of them Lennox had reached the counter and was ordering her coffee between frequent backward glances.

“Are you listening to me?” The man glared. “Get to the back of the line before I make you.”

Connor turned to get a better look at the man. A scan revealed traces of alcohol on the man's breath. “You appear to be inebriated. That would put you at a severe disadvantage should you try to confront us.”

“Confront?” The man squinted. “Wait a minute… You’re one of those glitching ones aren’t you?”

“Connor is not broken!”

The exclamation was out of Hank's mouth before Connor could stop him. Fortunately Lennox chose that moment to grab Hank and drag him from the store. Relieved, Connor followed. 

Lennox had dragged them back to the truck with such urgency that she left her coffee on the store counter. With the click of a remote three doors opened at once. “Get in.”

Hank glanced at Connor, then shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat.

As Connor reached for the door handle to pull himself into the truck he felt a change in the texture of the asphalt. It wasn’t enough to throw him off balance, but he glanced down anyway, and noted a fresh blue puddle beneath his foot.

“Connor!” Lennox snapped. “I said get in!”

Deciding he would examine the thririum clinging his shoe later, Connor climbed in and buckled up.

Once they had pulled out of the rest stop and onto the highway, Lennox floored it. 

“Woah!” Hank stared out the window at the scenery flying by. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“We’re being followed.” Lennox’s knuckles were white as she clutched the steering wheel.

“Followed? By who? I thought you took care of people tracking Connor.”

“They’re not tracking Connor. They must have recognized us.”

Connor twisted in his seat to get a view behind them. It took him no time at all to spot the car weaving between traffic at a dangerous speed, a familiar man at the wheel. “It’s the cop car from the Packard plant!”

“That guy?” Hank frowned. “You serious?” 

“Unfortunately.” Lennox muttered. “Keep an eye out for an off ramp or something, we need to get somewhere with less people before he decides to open fire.”

Ignoring Hanks yells about how it was a stupid idea to go along with all of this, and movement of the truck as Lennox swerved around traffic, Connor turned his focus to the edges of the highway. A break in the fence caught his attention and he nearly had a chance to call it out before Lennox swerved towards it.

The truck bounced across the grass and smashed through a padlocked gate with ease. They had driven into the main lot of what appeared to be a highway maintenance facility. Connor caught glimpses of utility vehicles and piles of road salt as they skidded around the corner of a warehouse building, the cop car still hot on their heels. As they turned into an alley between two buildings, both Connor and Hanks doors flung open. 

“When I say jump, get out of the car and stay where you land.” 

“What?!”

Lennox didn’t bother responding to Hank's exclamation. Her gaze was focused on a pile of sand ahead of them. As the truck evened out into a straight away, Connors seatbelt undid itself. 

“JUMP!”

Deciding it was best to listen to Lennox, Connor jumped. He hit the sand pile harder than he’d expected and rolled twice before coming to a stop in a cloud of dust. He heard Hank swearing a few feet away, and seconds later the sound of the cop car as it drove right past them.

Hank groaned and got to his feet. “That lady’s crazy.”

“Actually, that was an extremely calculated move. This sand provided both a soft landing and a dust cloud to keep the man from seeing us. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Does she? Because now it’s just her against the angry fake… Connor are you bleeding?”

Hank was staring at Connors shoe. The blue blood he’d stepped in a few minutes ago was still there.

“Oh that. No it isn’t mine.” Connor reached down and swiped some of it onto his fingers.

“Connor if you put that shit in your mouth…”

“There was a puddle of it under the truck when we exited the store. I meant to analyze it sooner but the cop car showed up.”

Hank sighed and rubbed his nose. “Just check it then.”

Connor pressed the sample to his tongue. 

**Fresh Blue Blood (Unprocessed)**

**Model ? – Serial #?**

**Android Wounded**

**One match found: Sample from Packard Plant crime scene**

If that was true, was the man in the cop car an android? Maybe he had tampered with the truck. Or maybe the truck itself… no that was highly unlikely. Who would waste thirium by using it to power a truck that had been built before thirium was even discovered? 

The very next chance he got, Connor decided, he would scan the truck. 

“Well?” Hank frowned. “Your light’s gone all yellow. What is it?”

Connor shook himself. “It’s identical to the trail from yesterday.”

“The unprocessed stuff?”

The sound of gunfire cut off any further conversation. Hank cursed. “Forget the blue blood for now, we should see if she needs back up.” 

“She ordered us to stay here.” Connor said.

“And since when have orders stopped you?” Hank reached for the gun that wasn’t in his holster, and his face fell. “Fine. We follow her orders.”

Another burst of gunfire echoed from around the corner, accompanied by the sound of metal scraping on metal.

“This sounds like the world's deadliest demolition derby.” Hank tensed as metal crunched. It sounded like someone had crashed, but both engines continued as if nothing had happened. “I really hope Lennox knows what she’s doing.”

“Lennox has faced this man before,” Connor said “I’m sure she can handle…”

Hank frowned at Connor’s sudden silence. “Connor?”

Connor didn’t answer. He was staring at the corner of the building. Something shiny had, for the briefest of moments, been visible peeking around the corner. 

They were being watched.

All talk of Lennox was forgotten as Connor quickly scanned the area for any sort of weapon. A pile of discarded pipe sections caught his eye and he grabbed one. “There’s something over there.” He pointed. “I only saw it for a second, but it looked metallic.” 

Following Connor’s lead, Hank grabbed a pipe as well. “You uh… You lead the way this time. I don’t have my gun and you’re faster than me.”

Connor nodded and the two of them inched forward along the wall. They’d barely made it a few feet when something skittered across the corrugated roof above them.

“Shit! What was that?”

The words were barely out of Hank's mouth when the thing landed in front of them. 

It was thin, roughly four and a half feet tall and composed almost entirely of gleaming, razor sharp edges. It’s four blue optics locked onto them. Before Connor had a chance to scan it, an electronic screech filled the alley. Several throwing stars launched out of it’s chest at Connor and then it charged. 

Connor ignored the stream of swears that poured from Hank's mouth as he dodged the projectiles with inhuman speed, and swung the pipe at the creature the moment it was within range.

The creature ducked, just slow enough for the pipe to shatter one of its optics, and dropped to all fours. A sharp clawed hand swiped at Connors leg. There was a tug as it sliced through both the fabric and the plastic above his left knee. A thirium loss warning appeared on his display. 

Doing his best to ignore the thirium leaking from his leg, Connor backed up, dodging attacks and swinging the pipe whenever an opening appeared. The creature screeched angrily and crawled after him, writhing left and right as it avoided each swing Connor aimed at it. Everything about it’s movement was wrong. It was more agile than any android Connor had ever seen.

Agile enough that, as Connor made another desperate swing, it caught the pipe and ripped it out of Connor's hands. 

Something best described as a grin crossed its insect like face, and suddenly its sharp hand was pressed to Connor’s throat. He could feel its fingers digging through the plastic casing and into the thirium lines underneath. Three more warnings appeared. His thirium levels had dropped almost fifteen percent. Where still dropping. His vision flickered as the thing pushed a little harder. It leaned in so that it’s face was inches from his own and hissed at him. 

And then suddenly the pressure was gone. A groan escaped Connor as he sunk to the ground. A quick scan revealed that the bio components in his throat were fine, but the thirium lines around them less so. He could see blue puddles on the ground beneath him and checked his thirium levels again. Down another four percent.

“Is he OK?” The voice was female. Lennox.

“Does he fucking look OK?” Hank. Concerned as ever. “Please tell me you’ve got something to fix him with.” 

Connor tried to move his head, but his systems threw up more warnings about the damage on his neck. 

“We can melt his wounds shut. It won’t be pleasant, but it will stop the bleeding enough to get him to the meet up spot. Someone can patch him up properly there.”

There was a moment of silence from Hank, enough for Connor to hear the clink of metal and something that sounded like a blowtorch. He heard Hank sigh. “Fine.”

And suddenly Lenox was kneeling next to him. He could feel intense heat washing off of something and braced himself. “Leg first.” He said,

She did as he asked. Once the leg wound was sealed she moved on to his neck, moving the piece of red hot metal over the wounds with a steady hand. He checked his thirium levels again as the last warning disappeared. Down twenty six percent, but he wasn’t leaking.

“Kid. Kid you alright?” He heard footsteps and suddenly Hank's hand was on his arm, pulling Connor to his feet. His vision flickered and warnings about uneven thirium distribution appeared on his display.

He blinked a few times, cycling his optics, then looked at Hank. “I… will be fine. However I’ll need to enter standby mode. I have lost just over a quarter of my thirium, and need time to process the damage and cool down.”

“You can rest in the truck then.” Lennox said. “Let’s go.”

The truck was covered in fresh burns, dents and bullet holes. Connor filed the information away for another time, and was in standby before they’d pulled back onto the highway.


	7. Arrival

“...madness. Utter madness. First that robot spider thing at the the highway, now fucking planes. Ugh.” 

Connor switched on his optics. A quick scan revealed that they were, in fact, on a plane. It definitely wasn’t a commercial flight though. The seats were gray, barely cushioned, and ran along the edges of the cabin, facing inward. Tied down about twenty feet away from them were three vehicles. Clearly this was a military transport plane. He recognized the black truck and the police car, both of them covered in battle damage. The third one, a yellow heavy duty ambulance, looked to be a perfect match for the last of the three tire trails from the Packard Plant. He tried to scan them, but they were out of his range.

Sitting across from him were Hank and Lennox. Hank looked pale and was clutching a plastic bag as though his life depended on it. Lennox had edged as far away from Hank as her seat would allow. 

“Hello.”

Lennox looked up and smiled. “Oh good. You’re awake.” She reached for the bag that was in the seat next to her, producing two thirium packets. “I grabbed these before we took off. It’s just normal thirium this time. I promise.”

Connor checked anyway, just to be sure. When his sensors confirmed that she was telling the truth he drank the first one in a few seconds. The fresh repairs on his neck made tilting his head back awkward, but manageable. Nevertheless he decided it would be better to finish the second packet in sips. 

“Good things androids can’t get airsick.” Lennox glanced over at Hank. “You should have seen his face when he realized we'd have to fly.”

“If their gyroscopic systems were malfunctioning they could…”

“Nope.” Hank held up a hand. “Don’t want to think about puking androids, thank you.” 

“That’s not a typical symptom.”

“Doesn’t matter. Stop talking about it. How long till we land?”

“About fifteen minutes actually.” Lennox grinned. “Sorry Connor but you slept through the whole flight. At least there’s no windows, so you don’t have to worry about missing any stunning views.”

Connor almost laughed at the look on Hank's face. 

-

Hank was down the ramp almost before it hit the ground.

The immediate area they had arrived in was a runway lined with a few large hangers, but beyond those he could see a variety of tropical plants on one side and ocean on the other. Clearly they were on an island, but without his GPS he had no way of knowing which one.

Without his databases Connor couldn’t be totally sure, but the man standing at the base of the ramp appeared to be somewhere in his sixties. He was visibly tanned in the areas not covered by his uniform, and his grey hair was shaved neatly at the sides. A large german shepherd stood at the man's side, tail wagging rapidly. As he got closer Connor noted the man's name tag. Director Lennox.

Director Lennox rushed up the ramp, meeting the younger Lennox halfway and pulling her into a hug. “Hey there kid. I’m glad to see you back in one piece.”

“Aw come on Dad. It was just Barricade and Frenzy. Stop embarrassing me in front of the guests.”

“Oh alright.” The Director laughed and let her go. “But for the record, I think Titan missed you more.”

The german shepherd perked up at the mention of what must have been his name.

“I’m sure he did. But he can wait until after introductions have been made.” Lennox glanced back into the plane. “That means everyone out.”

Connor stared into the airplane but saw only the truck, free of the ropes that had tied it down, and the two vehicles behind it. “There's nobody else in the plane.”

“Oh there is.” Lennox put her hands on her hips. “Come out, before I send Titan to pee on your tires.”

Hank skipped staring into the plane and stared at Lennox instead. “Are you threatening the truck?”

The sound of an engine grumbling in the plane drew everyone's attention. As they watched, someone spoke. “You heard her, move your rusty aft. You’re not the only one on this plane you know.”

“Rusty?” The second voice was deeper, less muffled. “You’re older than me!”

“Take better care of myself though.”

“That’s pretty easy when you spend most of your time in the med bay not getting shot at.”

“Just move. I haven’t been able to stretch my legs for a week.”

“Make me.”

“Oh I will,”

An engine revved and suddenly the truck was being pushed down the ramp by the ambulance. The ambulance with no driver.

Lennox glanced back at Hank and Connor, an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry they’re so grumpy. That’s what you get when the oldest bots on base are the only ones available.”

“I heard that!”

Hank looked from the seemingly possessed trucks, to the Lennox’s, and then back to the trucks. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Lennox and her dad glanced at each other and she grinned. “I always love this part. Ironhide, Ratchet, care to introduce yourselves? Politely, preferably?”

Connor had run hundreds of simulations, and spent countless hours researching cases on the internet, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

The vehicles unfolded.

Metal panels snapped in and out of place. Entire sections of the vehicles seemed to explode outward, twisting and sliding and spinning in ways that didn’t seem feasibly possible. In a matter of seconds two massive, humanoid figures stood where the truck and the ambulance had been parked, their plating shifting gently as the last few pieces settled into position. 

“Holy shit.” Hank said.

“Yeah that’s the usual reaction.” Director Lennox grinned.

The dog barked and took off at a run towards what had once been the truck. Connor heard a hiss as it vented air in what must have been a sigh, and knelt. It extended a massive hand to Titan and the dog fearlessly sniffed all over it. 

“Alright. That's the big reveal over with.” Director Lennox stepped forward, offering a hand. “Time for introductions. My name is William Lennox. Most people just call me William or Will. I’m the Director here at NEST. That stands for Non-biological Extraterrestrial Species Treaty but everyone around here just says NEST. It’s a lot easier.”

Hank was still gawking at the robots, so Connor shook first. “My name is Connor. I’m…”

**Connection point detected**

**Would you like to connect?**

Connor pulled his hand away faster than he’d intended. It had gone pearly white, the false skin peeled back. A glance at Director Lennox… Williams… hand revealed that it had done the same.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I don’t meet a lot of androids. Sometimes I forget this hand’s made of plastic.” 

Connor frowned and ran a scan over Williams arm. It was a top of the line CyberLife prosthetic. Either Director of NEST. was a very well paying job, or the government provided exceptional insurance. “It’s alright Director.” 

“You don’t need to call me that. William is fine.”

“Don’t bother trying.” Hank had managed to pull his attention away from the giant robots, and accepted Williams handshake. “The kid’s too polite for his own good sometimes. He lives on my couch and still insists on calling me Lieutenant. Names Hank Anderson.”

“Kid?” William chuckled. “You really call him kid then?”

“He’s seven months old and likes sticking weird shit in his mouth. And don’t get me started on the fish. He’s a walking supercomputer with internet access, but the best name he could come up with was Finn.”

“Ah the joys of having sentient robots in the family.” William said. “At least Connor can’t destroy a garage roof just by standing up. My wife still hasn’t forgiven Ironhide for that one. Honestly it’s hard to believe he’s thousands of years old when he still throws a fit over being woken up from a nap.” 

“Oh believe me, if Connor ever broke my garage he’d… did you say thousands of years old?”

“Yes I did.” William said. “Annabelle, what do you say we explain a few things?”

Lennox met her fathers knowing look and grinned. “I’d love love to.” 


	8. N.B.E.

“Okay let’s start off simple.” William stood at attention, but the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth was a dead give away that he was enjoying this. He motioned to the two large robots standing behind them. “These two are Autobots. You’ve already met Ironhide. Sort of anyway. He’s a weapons specialist. The ambulance is Ratchet. He’s a medic if the alt mode didn’t make it obvious enough. That police car and the guy made entirely out of sharp edges are Barricade and Frenzy respectively. They’re Decepticons, and trust me they aren’t on our side. The government calls them Non Biological Extraterrestrials, but they call themselves Cybertronians.” 

“So what you’re saying,” Hank said, “Is that these guys are aliens.” 

“You’ve got it.” William said. “I’ve been working with the Autobots for about thirty years now. I used to do field work with Ironhide, but Annabelle took my place after I lost my arm.”

There was sweat beading on Hank's face. The heat and humidity had begun to intensify as the sun rose, so they had moved into one of the hangers. It had fans, but the room was so large that the effect was hardly noticeable. Lennox had brought Hank a water bottle, but Connors only option was to disable several non essential systems and slow down others to reduce internal heat production. 

As interesting as the extraterrestrial robots were, Connor almost wished he was back in Detroit, examining a crime scene during a cold spring rainstorm. Almost. “How have you managed to keep them hidden for so long?” He asked. “They seem like they would be pretty conspicuous.” 

“Top of the line security protocols, island bases, cover stories that are total BS to anyone in the know, among other methods.” William said. “Which reminds me, when this is all over with I don’t want a word of this reaching the general population. There will be a non disclosure agreement.”

“And what does that mean for Connor then?” Hank frowned. “You gonna wipe his memory when this is over with?”

“If Connor thinks it’s necessary we will, but I’ve never liked wiping androids' memories. They’re so much like Cybertronians that deviant or not, it just doesn’t feel right.” 

“I fail to see the resemblance beyond them both being robotic and sapient.” Hank said. “But I hope you live up to those words.”

Thirium, Connor realized, remembering the fresh puddle under the truck. Thirium was the resemblance. He brought a hand to the tear above his knee, examining the fabric. The blue had faded, but the traces were still there when he scanned it. If these robots were thousands of years old… 

“Kamski didn’t create thirium, did he?”

The room went dead silent. Every set of eyes turned to stare at him. 

“No he didn’t.” It was Ratchet who spoke up first, kneeling closer so he could better talk to Connor. “He altered it to suit his own needs, but he certainly didn’t create it. How did you come to this conclusion?” 

“I found his thirium.” Connor pointed to Ironhide, “At the packard plant I thought an android had been involved. Although it was odd for it to be running on unprocessed thirium, I theorized that it was desperate. When we were leaving the convenience store I stepped in a puddle of thirium that appeared to be leaking from the truck…” 

Connor paused, rethinking what he had just said. He wasn’t used to operating with his systems slowed down. Between that and the strange new information he was trying to process, the correction seemed to take ages to come to him. “I’m sorry, leaking from Ironhide. I ran an analysis on it and discovered that it was a match with what I found at the plant. When Director Lennox mentioned how old you were, I realized it was likely that androids were using a Cybertronian fuel, rather than the other way around.”

Ratchet leaned in a bit closer, and Connor felt a small burst of electricity run through him. He had a feeling he had just been scanned.

“All astute observations.” Ratchet stepped back and shifted his glare to Ironhide. “Although Ironhide shouldn’t have let himself get shot to begin with.”

“And when he did,” Lennox said. “I shouldn’t have learned about it because Connor found his spilled energon.”

Ironhide huffed and crossed his arms. Metal clinked together and the sound echoed around the room. “I assure you I’m fine. It was a minor wound. If Detroit kept up with its pothole problem it would never have reopened.”

“Woah woah woah,” Hank walked in between Connor and the two cybertronians that were now looming over him. “Does this mean Connor runs on alien blood? I don’t know if that's cool or weird.”

“Androids run on a modified version of energon.” Ratchet explained. “It’s less powerful as a fuel source, but also much safer if a human is exposed to it.” 

“Energon?” Hank laughed. “Is that really what you call it? No offense but that sounds like something from the cartoons I watched as a kid. Could an android run on energon or unprocessed thirium, or whatever it's called? Would it give them a power boost or something?”

“It would, but only temporarily.” Connor explained. “Android systems aren’t durable enough to withstand using unprocessed thirium for very long. It would cause biocomponent malfunctions and software errors. The most notable side effects to the outside observer are a negative impact on coordination and cognitive abilities. Larger models designed for heavy labor would last a little longer, but ultimately they would shut down due to biocomponent failure after about a day.”

“So it’s android alcohol?”

“If that’s how you want to think of it, then yes.”

“So if an android only drank a little bit of it…”

Connor had spent enough time around Hank to predict where this was going and cut him off before he could finish. “As amusing as you think it would be to see me get drunk, I’m not trying any.”

“Buzzkill.” Hank shook his head.

One of the cybertronians, and it had to be them since the noise originated twenty feet above Connors head, snorted. When he looked up at them Ironhide was doing a rather poor job of hiding a grin. 

“Anyway let’s get back to business.” Hank had turned back to the rest of the group. “How’d a sleazeball like Kamski get ahold of alien blood?” 

“We don’t know for sure,” William said. “He’s too discreet to give away anything definite, but he must have encountered a cybertronian at some point. We’ve fought decepticons in Detroit before and like Connor said, they’re hard not to notice.”

“I guess you weren’t kidding when you said CyberLife was keeping secrets.” Hank looked at Lennox. “So where are the other autobots?”

“Mostly out on missions right now, and one working in the labs. As for the rest… well, I think it’s best if you meet them so we can explain the current situation.”

“If it means somewhere with better air conditioning, than please.” Hank said. “Lead the way.”

-

As it turned out the area the other autobots where in did have better air conditioning. Connor almost sighed in relief as he brought his systems back up to their normal settings and turned his attention to examining the area. They had been led down one of the base's massive hallways and stopped right outside of a doorway. As he scanned the heavy door, he noted that it had both a physical lock and an access panel, William pulled a cell phone, and tablet, out of his pockets and set them into a locker along the wall.

“Excuse me Director, what are we doing?”

“Following containment protocols. No electronics enter this room, and no electronics leave.” William detached his prosthetic with a tug, and added it to the locker. “Which means we needed to find a special solution for you. Ratchet, do you have the suit?”

“Got it right here.” 

Connor jumped. Ratchet's voice hadn’t come from above, but from right behind him. He spun around, and found himself face to face with a blond, middle aged man in a doctors uniform. Ignoring the stare Connor was giving him, the man pressed a jumpsuit made of heavy plastic into Connors arms. “Put in on.”

A scan revealed that the man was nothing but solid light patterns. Connor shifted his gaze from the man to the robot that he knew was actually Ratchet, and found that the ambulance was kneeling motionless against the wall. “Are you…?”

“Yes, I’m Ratchet.” The man said. “This is my holomatter avatar. You don’t have one, so put on the suit.”

Connor didn’t need a scan to know that the jumpsuit would be far too big for him, and as he zipped into it he could see Hank smirking. 

“You look like the stay puft marshmallow man.”

Connor looked down at himself, trying to gauge what the suit looked like on him. His vision was partially obstructed by the hood and anything faster than a walk meant he would have to be careful to avoid tripping on the loose material. “I don’t know who that is, but I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Right. Remind me to have a movie night when we get back to Detroit.”

“I will, lieutenant.” 

Hank rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything a speaker set into the door frame crackled to life. A female voice snapped out of it. “If you guys are ready, then I recommend we get a move on. Humans go through first. I’ll need different settings when Connor comes through so this place doesn’t put itself into lockdown. Ratchet, get your holographic ass in here right now.”

“I’ll see you inside.” Ratchet's avatar faded away. 

The doors in front of them swung open with a hiss of escaping air, revealing a small room that best resembled a decontamination chamber. Once Hank and William stepped through the doors shut behind them with a solid thud. Connor frowned and glanced back at Lennox. “You’re not going in?”

She shook her head. “Ironhide can’t go in. I’m not gonna leave him alone out here.”

An analysis of Ironhide's blank expression and suddenly withdrawn body language suggested there was more to it, but Connor didn’t push the matter. 

When the woman on the speaker ordered him into the room, he did as he was told. Scanners similar to the one Lennox had used back at Hank's house were set into the wall and the air seemed to heat up around him as they glowed to life. Approximately ten seconds passed before they switched off and the doors in front of him swung open.

His first impression was that of a hospital ward, albeit one made for giants. Steel beds loomed ten and fifteen feet tall and had scaffolding and elevators built between them. Several equally large tables and chairs were set up near the back of the room and Connor even spotted a projector screen and two oversized video game controllers. Posters and paraphernalia scattered across the tables made the ward feel lived in, and Connor wondered how long the quarantine had been in place. In the corner there were two sets of counters loaded with tools and scanners. One cybertronian sized and one human sized. 

Scattered around the room, some in chairs, others sitting on their beds, where the cybertronians. The largest, red and blue and almost thirty feet tall, sported smokestacks and large windows reminiscent of an old fashioned tractor trailer truck. The smallest barely scraped thirteen feet, his sleek silver form obviously that of a sports car. The two in the farthest corner of the room, one red and the other yellow, looked like they were almost the same model.

Aside from the soft humming and beeping of machinery nobody was making any noise. Three human figures stood on the scaffolding so Connor moved toward them. His suit rustled all the way to the elevator, and Connor could help but feel self conscious.

The first thing he saw when the elelavor hissed to a stop at the top of the scaffolding was a fifth cybertronian laying flat on its back. Its sturdy black and white frame was decorated with police emblems, and the shape of it’s armour suggested an SUV. 

A stern looking woman in her late forties, dressed in grease stained overalls and a faded t-shirt that showed off her muscles, looked back at him as he crinkled to a stop next to Hank. It was a very brief look, and she quickly turned back to the console she was typing on. Connor could see Ratchet's holoform roughly ten feet away, where he had a device hooked up to the police cars head.

Humans sometimes talked about silence being heavy, and this silence certainly matched that description. Connor was almost startled when Ratchets holoform spoke.

“He’s stable.” Ratchet stood and hooked the device onto his belt. 

“Thank god.” The woman stepped back from the console, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow as she did so. “I don’t think I can deal with this much longer.”

William pressed his hand on her shoulder. “If Annabelle's right, we should have the cure in no time.”

“I really hope so.” She took a long breath, holding and releasing it before turning to Connor. “So I’m guessing by the plastic bag that you’re Connor. Right?”

Hank frowned. “I’m here too you know.”

“Yeah I know. But you aren’t one A.I. program away from CyberLife’s deepest secrets.” The woman met Connor’s eyes through the clear plastic visor. She didn’t even glance at Hank. “Nice to meet you Connor. I’m Mikaela Banes.” 

She didn’t offer a handshake. Connor hadn’t expected her to.


	9. Virus

The introductions were brief, and Connor filed away all the names and roles for future reference. Optimus Prime, Prime being a title, was their leader. Prowl, tactician and second in command. Jazz, spec ops. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, twins and horrible troublemakers but good in a fight. 

Optimus had knelt in front of Connor, gigantic even when he was kneeling, and thanked him for coming in a rich baritone that radiated calmness. Other than that, not one of the Cybertronians spoke beyond introducing themselves.

After that Connor, Ratchets holoform, and the three humans, had taken the elevator back to the floor, and were now standing around a laptop on the human sized workbench while Mikaela and Ratchet explained the situation.

“We first noticed it about a month ago with Prowl.” Mikaela started, “With the amount of data he goes through on a daily basis, it's not surprising he picked it up first. He has exceptional firewalls, so we thought he’d be okay after some rest. Unfortunately this virus has proved to be highly adaptable. The more Prowl fought it, the worse it got. And then it started spreading, first to Jazz and Prime, then to the twins. We put this quarantine in place and it seems to have stopped the spread, but we need to find a way to get rid of it. The others are holding steady for now, but Prowl… Prowl won't last much longer.”

“That’s where you come in Connor.” Ratchet said. “I ran a cross reference between the coding in Williams prosthetic and the virus coding. It’s definitely CyberLife in origin, Which means that if we can find a cure anywhere, it's with them. Unfortunately, as Annabelle has told you, Cyberlife has been extremely careful ever since the android revolution. We did remember one piece of useful information however.”

“Amanda.” Connor shivered.

Mikaela nodded. “An A.I. programmed to act in CyberLife’s best interests. Which means she’d know absolutely everything there is to know about CyberLife. We went to Kamski’s first. But he was gone, along with all three ST600’s. We weren’t sure where to go from there until Annabelle brought up the idea of working with Connor.” 

“And now we’re here.” Hank said. “So what are you gonna do to him.?”

“I know you’re probably thinking it's going to be bad,” Ratchet said “But really all we need to do is find the data from Amanda’s last override and determine where the signal came from. He’ll probably have to go with us to the location, but you guys are police, so that should be more than manageable.”

“Aside from the fact that Amanda will be there, this location is probably gonna be a CyberLife building.” Hank shook his head. “They’ve put Connor through enough. I don’t want him near them again.”

Connor briefly debated whether saying something would calm Hank or make him angrier. He decided to talk “I promised I’d help. If that’s where I need to go, I will.”

William clapped Connor on the shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear. Time to go meet Wheeljack.”

-

They’d left Ratchet behind to help Mikaela, and walked back out into the sweltering island heat. The hanger that served as Wheeljack's lab was set away from the rest of the base, marked by piles of scrap metal and machine parts piled up along the side of it.

Hank had once referred to his messy living room as organized chaos, and Connor was immediately inclined to apply the term to Wheeljack laboratory. Tools were scattered across dented and discolored workbenches and a thin layer of soot coated the floor. Machines and vials of substances that Connor couldn’t even begin to identify were piled haphazardly into any space that wasn't being used as a workspace or tool storage.

Wheeljack himself wasn’t there. William had sighed and sent Ironhide off to find him. 

“Fair warning.” William said as they waited, “Don’t touch anything in here unless wheeljack tells you to.”

“Trust me I wasn’t planning on it.” Hank looked around the hanger, eventually focussing a particularly precarious looking pile. “I don’t feel like getting crushed today.”

“Oh there’s plenty of things in here that can do far worse than crushing.” Lennox crossed her arms. “Don’t get me wrong, Wheeljack's inventions have saved plenty of lives, but the stuff he thinks up scares me sometimes.”

The sound of heavy footsteps registered in Connors audio processors and he turned towards the source. Ironhide was approaching. Beside him was a white armoured cybertronian that must be Wheeljack. He was smaller than Connor had expected, clearly a sports car. 

“They scare the Decepticons too.” There was a fin on either side of Wheeljack’s head and they flashed blue as he talked. “That’s what matters.”

“Well right now what matters is getting this cure.” William said. “Where were you?”

“Interrogating Barricade and Frenzy. I’ve learned something real interesting. The Cons have…”

“Oh no.” William raised a hand. “We can’t let the guests hear everything.”

“They’ll want to hear this.” Wheeljack said.

“I’m sure they do, but…”

“The con’s have Kamski. And the RK900 prototype.”

Connor could see the shocked look on Hank's face and wondered if he looked just as surprised. It was hard to imagine Kamski being kidnapped. And an RK900? Perhaps CyberLife had been planning to replace him. “How’d they get them?”

“According to Barricade they have the RK900 under their control. Megatron’s doing from what I can gather. They used it to grab Kamski.” Wheeljack looked at William. “This all happened just over a month ago. Which means that Kamski, willingly or not, might have something to do with the virus.”

“Do we know where Kamski is?” William asked.

“Barricade handed both Kamski and the RK900 over to Megatron and Starscream. They could be anywhere by now.”

“Okay.” William said. “Let’s figure out where Amanda’s servers are. Once we have that we’ll send all the info to the scout teams.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Wheeljack turned his attention to Connor and Hank, kneeling for a better look. “So, this is Connor the RK800 huh?”

“Just Connor is fine.” Connor felt a scan run over him for a third time that day. 

“Fascinating.” Wheeljack smiled. It was somewhat unsettling. “I’ve looked over blueprints of all sorts of android models, and now I have one of the RK series standing in my lab. Oh this is so exciting. If humans have done anything right with our stolen tech its androids.”

Lennox sighed. “He’s not here to be studied. He’s here because he has important coordinates. Can you please get a move on?”

“Right, sorry. I’m just excited. Please, follow me.” 

Connor glanced over at Hank as they walked further into the lab and was relieved to see that the lieutenant looked just as uncomfortable as Connor felt. Surely Wheeljack didn’t mean to come across the way he did, but it bothered Connor all the same.

They stopped in front of one of the less cluttered workbenches. Connor could just make out the edges of what looked like a screen from where they stood. 

“All right. Connor.” Wheeljack said. “You’re gonna have to come up here. I can’t exactly move this console to the floor. Not quickly anyway.”

There were no elevators here, and even though Connor could probably pre-construct a way to climb up, he’d been told not to touch anything. Before he’d had a chance to comment on this obstacle, Wheeljack’s giant metal hand had wrapped around him and lifted him off the ground.

Connor wasn’t afraid of heights, but watching Hank and the others shrink as the ground got further and further away was enough to make him dizzy. Once his feet were firmly on the workbench and his gyroscopic systems had a chance to recalibrate he felt a little better.

But only a little.

“I would have appreciated a warning before you did that.” 

Wheeljack was too busy setting up the console to notice. “Once I have the settings put in, all you need to do is put your hand on the panel there. It’ll find all the data from that override yesterday and put it up on the screen so it’s easy for me to analyze. Hopefully I’ll be able to extract Amanda’s server location from it.” 

Connor stared up at the screen, “All the data?”

“There's a good chance the signal is encrypted. The more data we have to work with the better.” Wheeljack said. He motioned toward the panel. “Now go on.”

The panel in question blinked softly at him, waiting for input. Connor lifted his hand and realized it was shaking. “I… can Hank come up here with me?”

Wheeljack frowned. “I don’t see how he can help.”

“I just… I don’t know what I’m about to see. I can’t remember what I do when Amanda’s in control. If my stress levels go into the red… Hank’s the only person here I really know.”

Something softened in Wheeljack's expression and he knelt, disappearing behind the table edge. He reappeared a few seconds later with Hank, who was cursing fluently, and set him down on the table.

“Oh fuck. I don’t like that.” Hank groaned and shook himself. “You’re lucky I like you Connor.”

Connor managed a smile. 

“Alright,” Wheeljack clapped his hands, the clang echoing through the hanger. “We should get this over with quickly then.”

Connor nodded and stepped up to the panel. He didn’t need to breathe, but he drew a long breath anyway, taking some comfort in the rise and fall of his artificial lungs. The skin peeled back from his hand and he pressed it onto the panel before he could change his mind.

The screen lit up with information. A full body diagram, a video feed, an audio waveform, a window with a never ending stream of code. 

It was the video feed Connor focused on. He didn’t want to focus on it, not really, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. If only he’d told Hank about Amanda sooner, he thought. The Hank in the video knew something was off, Connor was sure of it, but without that one bit of info, he’d decided to trust something that wasn’t really Connor. 

It could have gotten Hank killed. 

Connor’s thirium pump stuttered at nonexistent cold when he saw Amanda on the screen, saw the smirk on her lips as he lunged for her and pressed down on a throat that actually belonged to Lennox. He pulled his hand away from the console and stumbled back, not even bothering to catch himself when he tripped and fell. His thirium pump really was stuttering, from a system shock, not the cold, and the faint glow behind his right eye told him that his LED had gone red.

Hank was at his side in an instant. “Okay kid. On your feet. You’re all done.”

Connor shook his head, and pressed a hand against his thirium pump regulator. It felt like someone had punched it. “Give me a moment.”

“A moment. Right.” Hank kept a hand on Connors shoulder as he turned to Wheeljack. “Please tell me you got what you needed from that.”

“I believe I did. The data’s a bit scrambled, but it’s definitely coordinates. I’ll get to work on decoding it and with any luck we’ll have a nice present for the scout teams tomorrow.” 

“Good.” Hank turned his full attention back to Connor. “You ready to stand up now?”

“I think so.” Connor pulled his feet underneath him and stood, wavering only slightly as his systems finished their recalibrations.

“Here.” Ironhide stepped up to the workbench and offered a hand. “I’ll give you a lift down. Don’t worry. I have far more practice at this than Wheeljack. I’ve been carrying Annabelle around since she was five.”

Hank eyed the hand doubtfully. 

“It’s okay Lieutenant. I’ll go first.” Connor stepped onto the offered hand, noting how Ironhide kept his fingers curled at just the right angle to keep someone from slipping off, and grabbed the autobots thumb for support. The hand didn’t even twitch as Ironhide lowered him smoothly to the ground.

Once Hank had been carried down as well, William led them out of the lab. “Alright. There won’t be much for you two to do until Wheeljack cracks those coordinates. For now let me bring you two to the mess hall and the barracks.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hank grinned. “I hope you serve burgers.”


	10. Conversation

Hank had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. His jacket lay in a crumpled pile next to his bed, but otherwise Hank hadn’t even bothered taking his shoes off.

Connor should have been in standby. There was nothing in the room they’d been given to keep him busy, and between the time spent in the heat and the sheer amount of information he’d processed today, his systems would certainly benefit from the reprieve. Instead Connor lay flat on his back, eyes open but not really seeing the tiled ceiling, and let his mind wander. William had said that Ironhide took naps. How often did cybertronians need to rest? Did it come easy to them or did they have to deal with overactive thoughts too?

Back home he would have been out the door and walking around the city by now, observing the lights and the people, and listening to the music being pumped out of businesses. Hank didn’t like it when he did that. He worried thugs or anti-android groups would go after Connor. But it was nice to see the city alive after being so empty during the evacuations. Sure he had been attacked a few times, but he could take on most humans with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back. 

This wasn’t Detroit though. This was an island base full of top secret extraterrestrials and specially trained soldiers.

He wondered where the Cybertronians came from. What would a planet populated by metal giants even look like? Ironhide was parked outside, maybe he could talk to him.

Yes, he decided. That would work. He got off his bed, careful not to let the metal frame creak too loudly. The last thing he needed was a grumpy Hank yelling at him for waking him up.

The door that led outside was locked, so he raised a hand and tapped lightly on it. A brief pause followed. He was wondering if Ironhide had heard it when the sound of shifting metal hit his audio processors and the door finally clicked open. He caught a glimpse of a broad shouldered man in dark clothing, before it faded from existence and then Ironhide's blue optics appeared in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you. I was expecting Hank. Thought he might need to use the restroom or something.” 

Connor almost laughed as he stepped outside. “Hank wouldn’t have knocked so politely.” 

Ironhide scoffed and pushed the door closed behind him with a large metal finger. “What are you doing then?”

Connor frowned, his processor racing as he tried to come up with an excuse that sounded acceptable. Before he could do so, Ironhide chuckled and nodded toward the side of Connors head. “Your LED’s yellow. Let me guess, too much to think about?”

“I… Yeah. Basically. Normally I’d take Sumo for a walk, or patrol Detroit, but those aren’t exactly options here.” He paused, wondering what Sumo was doing right now. “The Lennox’s dog, Titan, seems to really like you. How did you meet him?”

“I don’t really talk about that.” Ironhide said. “I have a reputation to keep.” 

Connor waited for a better explanation, but none came. “The first time I met Sumo I had just broken into Lieutenant Anderson's house. I thought he was going to attack me, but he’s not as good of a guard dog as his size would suggest.”

“You broke into Hanks house?” Ironhide raised a metal eyebrow.

“He was unconscious. I had to make sure he was okay.” Connor wasn’t sure why he was telling Ironhide this, but he was beginning to understand which old man Lennox had been referring to during their talk in Hank's kitchen.

Ironhide considered Connor for a long moment and sighed. “Titan’s mother caught me while I was sleeping and decided my truck bed would be a perfect spot to have her puppies. I was trapped in vehicle mode in the garage for a month because I was scared of hurting them. William has never let me live that one down.”

“I’ll make sure not to mention it to anybody then.” Connor smiled, and tried to imagine Ironhide holding a puppy. 

Silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of insects and the distant waves. Connor looked up at the sky. “Where are you from?”

“Huh?” Ironhide frowned.

“Your planet,” Connor said. “What is it like?”

“It’s called Cybertron. It’s… It’s dead.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s go back to talking about dogs.”

Connor nodded. “Yeah. Yeah let’s do that.”

-

Connor wasn’t sure when he had finally given in and went into standby mode, but he was woken up by Hank tapping against his LED. “Come on Connor, this is the second day in a row I’ve woken up before you. And this one involved a time change! You’re making me feel accomplished here.” 

“Sorry Lieutenant.” Hank had changed into fresh clothes, but Connor noted that his grey hair was still frizzy from the humidity. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“I’m sure you have. Ironhide said you talked to him last night.”

“I did.” Connor stood and started towards the door. “He isn't nearly as intimidating as he looks.”

“Good to know.” Hank pushed the door open. “Because he’s escorting us to the briefing. William promised there’d be breakfast and coffee and I want to get there before everything’s gone.”

-

The Lennox’s were already there when they arrived, along with a group of soldiers that Connor figured were accompanying them on the mission. A large TV in the briefing room was live streaming the face of a yellow and black cybertronian. Ironhide’s holoform, the broad shouldered man Connor had seen briefly last night, followed them in, and smiled as he saw the TV. 

Hank ignored the TV entirely and made a beeline for the table with the breakfast and coffee, pushing aside a soldier in his path. Connor followed Ironhide around the meeting table to the TV.

“Hey Bee.” Ironhide greeted the cybertronian on the TV. “How have you been kid?”

The autobot on the screen didn't have a distinct mouth, but it’s facial plating shifted slightly as it waved “Howdy partner! Feelin mighty fine at this time.”

The first part sounded like something out of a movie, and audio analysis suggested it was a recording rather than an actual voice. The second part was clearly from a song. Connor glanced over at Ironhide. “Why is he…?

“Talking like that? His voice box is broken. Has been for a long time. Everything we’ve tried ends up just being a patch job. He picked up the radio thing from an old friend of his.”

The cybertronian on the screen nodded and pointed at Connor. “His name is Connor.”

Connor recognized that one. Terminator, released October 26th 1984. Hank had mentioned it enough times that eventually Connor had given in and watched it with him.

“Yeah this is Connor.” Ironhide said. “Connor, this is Bumblebee. He’s one of our scouts and a damn good one too.”

“It’s nice to meet you Bumblebee. I take it we’ll be working with you?”

Bumblebee nodded happily and looked around the room, eventually focusing on Hank, the only human not in army uniform. “Mr. Anderson?”

Connor saw Hank glance up at the TV, mumble something about a worn out joke, and go right back to scooping scrambled eggs onto his plate.

“Don’t mind him.” Connor could see the disappointment in Bumblebee’s eyes. “It’s normal for him to be grumpy before he drinks his coffee.”

The sharp tapping of a gavel on a podium drew their attention to William. “Alright ladies and gentlemen, whatever you’re doing, wrap it up. Our guests are here, the plane’s almost prepped, and we need to get this briefing over with.”

In an organized rush of movement every soldier in the room made for a chair and sat down. Connor and Ironhide shared a quick glance and sat near the front, leaving the chair between them for Hank. 

Ignoring the looks he was getting, Hank hung back at the breakfast table long enough to finish pouring his coffee. Connor fought back a grin as the bubbling of the coffee machine filled the otherwise silent room. Only Hank would dare to push his luck, in a room full of impatient soldiers, over a cup of coffee.

When Hank finally sat down, William motioned Lennox forward. “Agent Lennox will be leading this mission. Annabelle, the floor is yours.”

Lennox stepped up to the podium and skipping over any form of introduction, launched right into her briefing. “With the help of Wheeljack and our guests, we’ve successfully identified our destination. A nice little place on the outskirts of San Diego, California. The former campus for the University of Colbridge. Turns out Kamski made some donations there after he made it big. The university has moved on to a newer campus, but Bumblebee scouted the area and there’s still a steady power supply in some of the buildings. If we’re lucky one of those ‘donations’ might still be there. If we’re unlucky, it’s a trap. But if we’re careful, even a trap could give us some useful information.”

Connor frowned. Hiding Amanda’s servers in the place where the real Amanda had taught did seem a little too obvious for a man like Kamski. The worst case scenario was that Lennox was right. A less likely and less dangerous possibility was that it was a decoy server, a way to throw people off the scent long enough for the real servers to be moved. Either way he didn’t like the situation.

“To complicate matters.” Lennox pressed a button and a picture appeared on screen alongside Bumblebee. “Both Kamski and this prototype android are in Decepticon possession. It’s possible that…”

Lennox continued to speak, but Connor barely heard it. He was too busy staring at the picture. The android on the screen had steel grey eyes, set in a face that was in all other respects identical to Connors, right down to the freckles and the lock of hair that fell over his forehead. The stiff black and white uniform made him look taller and broader than Connor, despite their identical proportions. Sewn into the jacket was the model and serial number. RK900 #313 248 317 - 87. 

Connor had thrown out his CyberLife jackets months ago and replaced them with plain grey ones. But his hand still trailed up to the spot where his serial number had been. 

CyberLife really had been planning to replace him.

“...military units that were going to be put into production. The android demonstrations put a halt to those plans and as far as we know this is the only one that’s been built. It’s stronger, faster, and more resilient than Connor. We even think it may have advanced self repair nanobots. The Decepticons have already put it to use and they could use it again, so keep an eye out...”

Hank was giving him a concerned look, but even Hank didn’t dare to talk now that Lennox was speaking.

“...Connor will accompany us into the building. Make sure he stays safe. If interaction with Amanda is needed… once we’re on the ground we’ll… not sure of any cons on the scene but...”

He was receiving warnings from his hands. Connor hadn’t told them to curl up into fists and yet his fingernails were digging into the plastic of his palms. When he looked down the artificial skin was peeled back from the pressure. His LED was probably blazing red right now.

A strong hand pressed onto his shoulder and Connor started. It wasn’t Hanks. It was too solid, too artificial. A voice spoke in his ear. “...just got a message from Wheeljack.” A pause and then. “Yeah, just has a few questions for Connor before he leaves. Yes. Thank you.”

Connor let himself be guided into the hallway, not even protesting as the person leading him propped him up against the wall. The man sat across from him and watched. “You good Connor? Sorry to drag you out like that, but Hank wanted you out of there before you made a scene, and he can’t exactly pull rank here.”

It was Ironhide, Connor realized. “But the briefing, what if we miss something important?”

Ironhide scoffed. “Our missions hardly ever match the briefings. You’ve heard most of the important stuff. Really the only other thing you should know is to look out for big angry robots swooping in from above.”

“Let me guess, this Megatron and Starscream you were talking about yesterday can fly.” A cybertronian big enough to turn into a plane didn’t sound like something Connor wanted to fight anytime soon.

“Yup.” Ironhide said. “And before you ask, Megatron’s the decepticon leader and Starscream’s their second in command. If Megatron does show up… well I’ll have to give the old bucket head a good kick in the aft for Optimus.”

Ironhide's voice caught almost imperceptibly at the mention of Optimus.

Connor frowned. “I haven’t talked much with Optimus, but he strikes me as someone Markus would enjoy talking to. If cybertronians weren’t a government secret, I’d want them to meet.”

Ironhide managed a small laugh. “You know, a lot of us were angry when we learned what Kamski had done. But not Optimus. He saw androids potential before even Wheeljack did. When Markus was protesting Optimus spent every moment outside of meetings and missions following the news reports from Detroit. Believe me, Optimus would love to meet Markus.”

“Maybe after all this is over.”

“Yeah.” Ironhide smiled. “Maybe.”


	11. Field Work

After the flight, they met Bumblebee on a quiet back road several miles from the University. The scout had his holoform, a slim woman in a yellow sundress, leaning against the door of his sports car alt mode and talking on a cell phone to deter suspicion from the occasional traffic. As Ironhide rolled into sight the holoform lowered the phone and gave him a jaunty salute, then climbed into the driver's seat. Together the two cybertronians and the bulletproof SUVs the soldiers drove made for a strange convoy.

They pulled up in a large courtyard surrounded by what had once been pristine white buildings. The former university campus wasn’t derelict yet, but given a few more years Connor estimated the instabilities present in the buildings would become too extensive to repair. He wondered briefly what Kamski thought about the condition his former school was in.

“Alright people.” Lennox shouted as Ironhide transformed behind her. “You know the drill. Three buildings with power, three teams, Bee and Ironhide stay here and keep a lookout for decepticons. If I tell you to get out, you get out as fast as you can. Connor Hank, you're with me on Team One. We’ll be going to the computer science building.”

Lennox reached into her bag and pulled out two fully automatic guns that Connor couldn’t recognize. When Lennox produced the ammo belts Connor scanned them and found the bullets were modified to be both armor piercing and to combust on impact. 

She held them out to Connor and Hank “Take these. I know it's a bit more intense than you’re used to, but if the cons show up you’ll appreciate having them.”

Hank hesitated, but Connor clipped an ammo belt around his waist, then took a gun and tested its weight. “I’ve never seen this type of gun before.” Connor pulled the strap the gun was attached to over his shoulder. “Who made it?”

“That’d be me and Wheeljack.” Ironhide grinned. “We pretty much always collaborate when it comes to guns. Personally I think that one’s our best work yet. At least in terms of what we’ve made for humans to use.”

Hank took the other gun and ammo belt. “I’ll probably be hiding somewhere and trying not to shit my pants if one of these Decepticons show up, but thanks.”

Lennox nodded. “Alright. Everyone group up, we’re going in. I want reports every ten minutes or if you find something.”

With a precision formed only by years of training, the soldiers around them split into three perfect formations and marched off towards their buildings. Doing his best to ignore the nervous looks Hank kept giving him, Connor fell into position in the center of Lennox's group.

Connor scanned the entrance hall as soon as they walked in and was startled to get a result immediately. There were shoe prints on the dusty floor, but no signs of a struggle. A pair of sneakers that he couldn’t identify without internet access, and a set of CyberLife issued dress shoes, identical to his own. Connor systems faltered briefly as he realized what that meant. “Lennox.” He spoke quietly and pointed. “You see them?” 

She nodded. “Can you identify them?” 

“One is CyberLife issued. I suspect the others are Kamski’s.”

Lennox muttered a curse and lifted her walkie talkie, an extremely outdated model that the decepticons supposedly couldn’t hack. “We have tracks in the comp sci building. Likely Kamski and the RK900. Stay on alert.”

Two affirmatives came through from the other team leaders. 

Lennox hooked the walkie back onto her vest. “Follow the tracks.” She ordered the group. “But be careful. Connor, keep scanning for any signs of traps. You’ll notice them easier than we will.”

“Got it.”

They worked their way through the building at a snail's pace. Every few feet Connor would scan the area, and every time, nothing came up other than the tracks. Almost forty five minutes had passed before they reached the stairs to the basement, and by then everyone seemed tense. Connor was inclined to agree with the sentiment. This felt too easy. 

“There are server rooms down there.” Lennox whispered. “No tracks leading out, and no other exit. Which means the hostage is still in there. We can’t risk harming him or damaging the servers. A flashbang would only alert the RK900 to our presence and an EMP would knock out the servers. We need to get in there. Any ideas?”

There was a long silence. Connor ran simulation after simulation. He’d been shown the building layout on the plane, but without knowing where Kamski and RK900 were it was down to guess work. After factoring in the most tactically sound locations for both their group and the two people in the basement, as well as the server layout Bumblebee had uncovered when scouting the area, he came to a conclusion, There was no way to both rescue Kamski and keep the servers from being destroyed.

Unless…

It was the ultimate bad idea. Hank would be calling him stupid for weeks if he survived. But he was the only solid link NEST and the autobots had to CyberLife. This was almost certainly a trap and he would be a good bargaining chip. Surely he was why they’d been lured here.

He took a deep breath and spoke. “I have an idea.”

Lennox turned to him. “Tell me.”

Connor did, and just as he’d thought, Hank didn’t like it.

Nevertheless, no one stopped him when he picked up an old textbook from one of the classrooms and tossed it down the stairs.

“Who’s ther…” The voice was cut off by a yell, but Connor had enough time to recognize it. Kamski.

There was a pause, and then a second voice spoke, high pitched and snarly. It sounded as if it was being played over a speaker. “I see you in there.” There was a short, sharp, laugh. “I want all the humans outside. That means people in the other buildings too. The android comes to me.”

Connor glanced back at the group. Lennox looked tense. “Starscream.”

“I said leave. I only want the android.”

Reluctantly, Lennox picked up the walkie talkie. “All units fall back to the courtyard.” 

As Lennox, Hank, and the soldiers disappeared down the hallway, Connor drew a deep breath and started down the stairs. Every one of his programs was telling him this was a risky move, and he fought down the urge to run. Stepping through the already open doorway at the bottom of the stairs was the hardest thing he had ever done.

He’d tried to brace himself for what he was about to see, but even so, the near perfect copy of himself standing in the center of the room was rather off putting. The pistol pointed at Connor’s forehead didn’t help.

“Drop your gun.” RK900’s finger twitched on the trigger.

The voice was definitely coming from RK900, but it’s mouth didn’t move. It’s LED was spinning a constant yellow as though it was processing an order.

Connor wordlessly dropped his gun.

“Good. Come here. Don’t try anything or I'll kill you.”

Connor took the opportunity to examine RK900. He didn’t dare try to scan the other android, but he could see plenty without that. The jacket, so perfectly white in the picture from the briefing, was torn and burnt along the arms and over several bio-components on it’s chest. Unblemished fake skin showed through the holes. What few movements RK900 made looked deliberate, uninhibited by any damage. 

Uninhibited, Connor suspected, because if there had been damage it’s self repair had made sure it wasn’t there anymore. It was impossible to be sure without a deeper scan, but the angle and tear patterns in the clothing suggest many of the wounds had been self-inflicted. 

Connor suppressed a shudder. 

When he was a few feet away, RK900 waved the gun towards an aisle between server racks. “Join the human.”

RK900 followed, the gun pointed at Connors back as he walked down the aisle towards a pale looking Kamski handcuffed to one of the server racks. His hair had grown out a little, and framed his face with less than flattering greasy strands and an uncombed beard. Connor noted bruises on Kamski’s arms, likely from being dragged around by RK900. Despite all that, when Kamski saw Connor, he grinned. “Ah yes, Connor. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I must say, I’m glad Barricade didn’t succeed in blowing you up. You always where a fascinating one.”

“Shut up you.” The voice speaking through RK900 snapped “Connor turn around.”

Connor did as he was told. He could hear something metal clinking behind him as something was attached to his left wrist. A hand grabbed his right arm and started guiding it towards the center of his back, and the other half of what must have been handcuffs,

It was then or never. Connor deftly twisted his right hand around and grabbed onto RK900’s wrist. And then he turned every iota of his spare processing power towards sending a signal through the other androids systems.

Pain, fear, stillness, endless stillness, a face reflected in a grey sheet of metal, someone watching, not him, sort of him, someone new, help? HELP!

HELP...HELP...HE..

RK900 pulled itself free from Connors grip. The gun clattered to the ground as it stumbled and fell, dragging its nails across its face and leaving blue and white streaks through artificial skin. It’s LED blazed red as Starscream screeched at it to get up over it’s own speakers. Connor fought back the urge to stare and ran a quick scan over Kamski. He couldn’t detect any traps in the man's restraints, so he grabbed RK900’s abandoned pistol and shot the chains between Kamski’s cuffs. 

Connor didn’t say a word to Kamski. He didn’t need to. They both took off at a run. Doorways flashed by them as the sound of a jet engine roared louder and louder in Connors audio sensors. 

“Starscream.” Kamski muttered. “We need to hide. You can’t fight him.”

“Two autobots, eighteen soldiers, and Lieutenant Anderson are in the courtyard armed with anti cybertronian weaponry.” Connor said. “I’ll take my chances.”

Approximately four seconds after Connor said that, something ripped the roof off.


	12. Hostages

The building creaked ominously around them as Connor pushed and pulled Kamski away from falling debris. Something was on the roof. He could hear it clawing through wood and stone and drywall and realized it must be searching for them. Then there was a round of gunfire from the courtyard. Starscream, if that was who was on the roof, yelled something in a mechanically under toned language that could only have been cybertronian, and a fresh round of rubble was brought down on Connor and Kamski.

Connor only waited long enough to confirm that no one was on the roof anymore before pushing forward. As they approached a hole in the wall Connor fought back a curse and pulled Kamski back around the nearest corner before they could be spotted. 

A cybertronian knelt by the recently formed opening, but it wasn’t Ironhide or Bumblebee. The brief glimpse Connor got of it was only enough to tell that it was silver armoured, with blue, circle shaped plating on its arms. As they stood motionless against the wall Conner heard something light drop to the floor and begin to drag. A second later a metal tentacle pushed through the rubble as it slithered by them and down the hall towards the basement. There were sensors flashing at the end of it, and Connor wondered how close it had come to seeing them.

He glanced over at Kamski, who mouthed the word “Soundwave”.

Connor remembered the automatic weapon he had left behind in the basement, and the nearly useless pistol tucked into his belt. They wouldn’t be able to shoot their way out. Instead Connor stepped slowly over the still moving tentacle and led Kamski down a different hallway.

Gunfire continued from the courtyard as Connor picked through the rubble that blocked some of the hallways. His mind raced as he calculated the chances that the autobots, the chances Hank had against at least two decepticons, and whether he should even risk the main entrance at all.

“Stop. Now.” 

The voice wasn’t Starscream's this time. It was deeper, lacked inflection of any kind, and sounded synthetic, as though it had been run through a filter.

And it came from the rapidly advancing RK900, it’s LED yellow again. Lines of thirium still dripped down it’s face and spilled all the way down it’s front, but the wounds didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. Connor suspected the loss of thirium had been significant. RK900 shouldn’t have been moving as smoothly as it was. It leveled the automatic rifle at them and the voice came through its speakers. “Hands up. Do not resist. You are inferior. I am superior.”

The pistol was still digging into Connor’s back but he didn’t dare reach for it. Together he and Kamski raised their hands.

“I will direct you out.” RK900 tightened its grip on the gun. “Resist and you will be shot.” 

As RK900 led them on, Connor realized they were being shepherded back to the hole in the wall where Soundwave knelt. Sure enough, as they rounded the corner, the decepticon was watching them expectantly. His face was completely obscured by a red visor and a facemask, and what little movements he made were robotic and impossible to read. 

Once they were close enough a panel opened in Soundwaves chest and three metal tentacles snaked out. With RK900 pointing a gun at his head, Connor had no choice but to stand there as one of them wound its way around him, and pinned his arms to his sides. Next to him he could see the same thing happening to Kamski and RK900. Kamski winced and Connor had a feeling Soundwave had just broken a few of the man's ribs.

Kamski’s troubles were quickly forgotten when something crawled up the back of his neck and connected to his memory. Data from the past several days flashed across his processor in a blur and faded just as quickly, leaving a sharp ache behind.

With a strength far beyond what Connor would have expected from them, the tentacles lifted them up and Soundwave stood with them. Then he walked around the corner and towards the gunfire, his three prisoners floating around him.

Connor felt his thirium pump stutter at the sight that greeted him. Several human soldiers lay motionless on the ground, while the others were hidden behind whatever they could find. As he watched, Bumblebee threw a large metal cat against a wall. Connor noted blue leaking from a deep scratch in the autobots yellow arm plating. Ironhide and a group of soldiers fired upwards as the jet that must have been Starscream dove past, raining bullets over everything. Someone screamed and Connor caught a brief glimpse of Lennox as she pulled a soldier behind cover.

He couldn’t see Hank, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

“I have prisoners. Stand down or they perish.”

It was the same synthetic voice that had come from RK900, only now it came from Soundwave and projected across the courtyard with ease. The facemask shifted slightly when the decepticon spoke.

Several soldiers pointed guns towards them, and dropped them almost as quickly when they saw the captives. Several seemed to be speaking. One by one the fighting stopped, even Ironhide reluctantly lowered his cannons. The cat robot disengaged Bumblebee and looked over at Soundwave.

“Ravage. To me.” Soundwave pointed to the ground next to him, and it slunk over, limping slightly. It settled into position at Soundwaves side, tail twitching as it watched RK900 wave through the air. 

The sound of someone transforming echoed through the air, and Starscream dropped into the courtyard, barely missing several soldiers as his feet hit the ground. “Excellent.” The jet's birdlike face shifted into a grin as he saw the prisoners. “Megatron will be pleased.”

“Will I?”

Soundwave turned, providing Connor with a view of the landscape outside the courtyard. Stepping out of a patch overgrown trees was a third decepticon, bigger than Optimus, and more alien. Not a single piece of it’s grey armor looked like it came from an earth vehicle, and its red optics blazed out of a battle scarred face. Clutched in one of his hands was…

Hank. As the decepticon approached Connor was relieved to see that Hank was struggling in Megatron's grip. He was alive.

A metal bird swooped into the scene after him and landed on Soundwaves shoulder. Soundwave bowed his head slightly and the bird, Connor, and the other prisoners swayed gently with the motion. “Lord Megatron,”

“Laserbeak found this one hiding in the forest.” Megatron ignored Soundwave and walked right up to Starscream, dangling Hank in front of the jet's face as though the lieutenant were a little more than a piece of dirty laundry. “I ordered you to make sure no one escaped.”

“Megatron I…”

“I’ll deal with you later.” Megatron growled at Starscream. “Soundwave, take this.” He passed Hank over to Soundwave, who wrapped a fourth tentacle around the lieutenant. Hank locked eyes with Connor as he was lifted up, but neither of them said a word.

Then Megatron turned towards the soldiers and the two autobots. “Lennox, I know you’re there. Come out and I spare the captives and your troops.”

Connor hadn’t expected Lennox would do it, and yet she did. She dropped her gun as she stepped out from behind one of the SUV’s and held her hands up. 

“Excellent.” Megatron nodded. “Come closer.”

Lennox did. One agonizingly slow step at a time. She was up to something, Connor realized. She had to be. 

Sure enough when she was almost within megatron's grasp a group of jets flew by overhead, shattering the few unbroken windows with how close they were. For the first time Soundwaves robotic composure broke and Connor felt the tentacles grip go slack. It wasn’t by much, but it was enough to work his hand back to the pistol in his belt. Before Soundwave could regain his grip Connor pulled the gun free and fired several rounds into the tentacles. As he’d hoped, the bullets bit into the thin flexible metal and the tentacles retreated, leaving blue trails across Connor’s jacket. 

And then Connor was falling. He angled himself into a roll as he landed, ending up on his back. Even as he slid to a stop, he sunk several more bullets into the tentacles holding Hank and Kamski before Soundwave could recover from the initial impacts.

The fall for the two humans was almost five feet and Connor hesitated briefly on deciding who to catch. Hank was older but he was tough, Connor had seen him in enough fights to know that, and he hadn’t shown any signs of an injury. Kamski would be easier to catch, and almost certainly had broken ribs. So it was Kamski that Connor moved towards. He caught the man before he could hit the ground and pulled him behind a piece of rubble. A brief scan confirmed his suspicions about Kamski’s ribs, but thankfully no internal organs had been punctured.

“You need to stay still.” A dead soldier lay nearby and Connor pulled their bulletproof vest off. Trying his best not to think about the man he’d taken it from, he strapped it on to Kamski. “There’s no internal bleeding. As long as you’re careful you’ll be fine.”

Kamski mumbled something unintelligible and passed out.

There was a scuffling sound and Hank appeared at Connors side. “Nice shooting kid. How’s Kamski?”

“Broken ribs, but he’s stable.”

“Good.” Hank tossed Connor one of the automatic rifles. “Lennox had me call those jets. Guess it was a good thing you left the briefing when you did. Otherwise Soundwave could have seen that little backup plan in your memories.”

The jets in question were bearing down on the now mostly cleared courtyard, raining gunfire on the decepticons. Soundwave tossed RK900 aside and said something in cybertronian. 

The bird and the cat split off from Soundwave and began circling the courtyard, dodging bullets from above and shrugging off what they couldn’t avoid. Connor saw Bumblebee dart after the cat, with a shout of “round two!” and the sound of a bell ringing.

“Hank, stay here and protect Kamski.” Connor checked the magazine in his gun. “I’m going to help.”

Hank nodded. “Don’t you dare get killed.”

“I’ll do my best not to Lieutenant.” Connor ducked out of cover and quickly surveyed the scene.

Starscream was gone, somewhere in the air probably. Ironhide was attempting to fight both Megatron and Soundwave. The bird was already pulling a retreat, smoke billowing from a wing as it struggled through the air. 

Soundwave was closest and the least armored, so Connor went for him first, firing a stream of bullets into a gap in his armor. The decepticon hissed and turned to face Connor, energon dripping from his back. Connor noted the area around Soundwaves chest compartment was stained blue. The wounds he’d dealt to the tentacles were still bleeding as well. Good. 

Connor lifted the gun and aimed for Soundwaves visor. The bullets shattered both glass and optics as they hit home. Sounwave barely even flinched. The plates on his arms began to glow blue, sparking and flashing as electricity coursed through them. Connor had barely managed to fire another round of bullets into them before they went off.

There was no bullet or explosion to dodge, only a burst of concentrated sound that rattled his internals and played havoc with his sensors. Connor stumbled, vision flashing, and suddenly he was on the ground. He could just about make out Soundwave advancing towards him with his arm raised, and he braced himself for the worst. 

And then someone else was firing, the bullets digging into the plates. As Connor watched the electricity around them faded and Soundwave's arm went limp. The decepticon stared down at his useless arm and then transformed, leaving skid marks in his haste to drive away.

A hand grabbed Connors arm and pulled him to his feet. Brown eyes looked into his own and as his vision cleared he realized it was Lennox. “You good?” she frowned at him.

Connor nodded. “Yeah,”

“Good. Keep shooting. Megatron's not gonna retreat without a fight.”

“Starscream?” Connors' gun was still intact. He reloaded it.

“Already gone. Used our jets for cover.” 

There was a shout from across the courtyard and Connor and Lennox turned at the same time, guns snapping up to point at Megatron. Ironhide still grappled with the decepticon, punching with both his left hand and the leaking stump that had once been his right hand. 

As one, Lennox and Connor opened fire. Lennox was a good shot, and Connor aimed where she did, trusting her to know the weak points in the armor. Megatron was heavily armored, but even he couldn’t ignore the concentrated gunfire pounding into his back. 

Megatron turned to look at them, and as he turned, the cannons on Ironhide's arms glowed brightly and fired.

Megatron heard the whir of the cannons, but he didn’t dodge fast enough. An explosion tore through the armor on the side of his head, exposing energon lines and sparking wires. 

Silence fell over the courtyard as Megatron raised a hand to inspect the damage. The cat bot, mid battle with Bumblebee, looked up, and when it saw the damage to Megatron it wasted no time disengaging and running out of the courtyard as fast as it’s damaged leg would allow.

“That’s for Optimus!” Ironhide's cannons glowed as he charged another shot, but Megatron was already transforming. All the second shot managed to do was to clip the left wing of Megatron's very alien looking jet mode as he flew away. 

“Oh sure, run away. COWARD! Some gladiator you are!”

Lennox sighed and walked over to Ironhide. “It’s over big guy.” 

“But…”

“It’s over.” Lennox was breathing heavily and as she spoke she wiped the sweat off her brow. “Alright people. Gather up the fallen and then we’re getting out of here. We have Kamski and that’s good enough. Bee, help Ironhide seal those energon lines before he bleeds anymore. Connor, go check on Hank and Kamski.”

“Yes ma’am.” Connor started across the courtyard, taking stock of the situation as he moved. Soldiers were already rushing towards their motionless allies, checking for pulses and helping up those who had been injured. He was relieved to see that the body count looked lower than he had initially suspected. 

And then he heard gunfire from the direction he’d left Hank and Kamski. Connor shifted into a sprint and launched himself over the rubble, gun at the ready, only to find RK900 curled up on its side and bleeding from several wounds in its chest. Hank’s gun was still pointed at RK900 but the barrel wasn’t smoking and neither Kamski, nor the lieutenant seemed to be injured. 

Connor stared. “Hank, how did you…”

“It was acting weird, jerking around and shaking.” Hank stared at RK900. ”It tried to shoot us but I think something was wrong with its aim.”

Connor frowned and walked over to the RK900. Ignoring Hank's warnings to get back, he knelt and pressed his fingers into the pool of thirium leaking from RK900’s wounds. He brought it to his mouth. A second later the analysis came up and everything made sense. RK900 had been running on a mix of energon and thirium, the balance tilted heavily towards energon. 

“When Soundwave put him back under Decepticon control he must have refilled his reserves with energon. That’s why he was malfunctioning.” Connor took note of the rest of RK900’s damage. A cracked thiruim pump regulator, punctures in the artificial lungs, bullet hole through the left shoulder joint, and several damaged thirium lines. He also picked up RK900’s nanobots as insect-like swarms clustered around the damaged parts, already trying to repair RK900. Connor shifted his gaze to RK900’s face and was startled to find it’s eyes wide open and watching him. It’s mouth moved but no sound came out. 

No sound was needed Connor realized, as he remembered what he’d seen when he interfaced with RK900. The android was asking him for help.

Lennox had loaded a duffle bag with thirium, repair tools, and vital biocomponents, and it was that bag that Connor had in mind when he rushed over to the SUV’s. He dug quickly through one vehicle, found nothing, and moved on to the second one. This one had what he wanted and he threw the bag over his shoulder and ran back across the courtyard.

Hank stared as Connor dropped to the ground next to RK900 and began melting torn plastic back together with one of the tools from the bag. Once every leak had been sealed Connor began pulling packs of thirium out of the bag as well. He propped RK900 up against a wall and began pouring them one by one down RK900’s throat. 

“Connor what the fuck are you doing?”

“He’s deviant.” Connor ran another scan on RK900. The other android had slipped into standby and the crack in his thiruim pump regulator was already a millimeter smaller. “His nanobots were trying to heal him, but he was bleeding out too fast. I had to do something.”

The sound of boots on gravel pulled his attention away from RK900, and when Connor looked up Lennox was staring at him.

“Connor I thought I told you… you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Lennox sighed. “Can you put RK900 into standby mode or something?”

“He already is.”

“Good. Get him and Kamski into a car. We’re leaving.”


	13. Back to Base

Aside from the soft beeping of monitoring machines, the hospital hallway was quiet. The rooms that stretched away in either direction were occupied by the soldiers injured during the mission, but Connor was only interested in the room he was standing in front of. More specifically the android currently occupying it. 

The RK900 had been given the signal blocking nanobots at the airport, and the blue blood had been washed off of him. When they’d landed, at Connors insistence, they’d given RK900 one of Connors spare sets of clothes, so RK900 didn’t have to wear his torn up ones anymore. 

But he was still strapped down to a stainless steel table. Still completely motionless. Scans showed that RK900’s processor was barely active. He wasn’t going to shut down, but he couldn’t do anything else either.

Next to him, Hank frowned. “You need to stop staring.”

“His repairs are finished. He should be awake by now.” Connor leaned closer to the glass, reading the machines hooked up to the other android for the tenth time in as many minutes. They hadn’t changed at all.

“Connor…”

“Sorry lieutenant.” Connor pulled away from the window. 

Hank sighed and grabbed Connors arm. “Come on Kid. Lennox is waiting for us.”

Across from RK900’s room was Kamski’s, and it was this room that Hank led Connor into. Unlike RK900, Kamski was wide awake and sitting up, albeit carefully. Shaved, showered, and dressed in clean clothes, Kamski looked like himself again, right down to the knowing smirk that was forever present on his face.

“So.” Kamski crossed his arms, careful to avoid his injured ribs and grinned at Hank and Connor as they entered. “You’ve gotten dragged into the mess that is cybertronians huh?”

“For the record it was Connors idea.” Hank pulled up a chair and sat. Connor decided to just stand.

“It doesn't matter. Once Barricade tried to blow you up, that was it. You would have been pulled in eventually no matter how much you tried to avoid it. Isn’t that right Lennox?” Kamski smirked at Lennox.

“He’s right.” Lennox looked up from the notes she was taking. “But that’s besides the point. Kamski, you have an IQ of 171. I’m guessing you know why you’re here.”

“To get the virus I designed out of some cybertronians, obviously.”

“So you did make it?”

“I did.”

“Why?” 

“Starscream ordered me to. I think he wanted to prove something by taking out a few autobots.”

“And Megatron wasn’t involved in this decision?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Kamski said. “In any case, I had it hit the first victim the hardest. Minimize casualties while still alerting everyone as early as possible that something was wrong, you get the idea.”

Lennox bristled and Connor knew she was probably thinking of Prowl. “Can you reverse it?”

“Of course I can.”

“Good.” Lennox said. “As soon as we’re done here, that’s what you’re going to start working on. Did the cons have you do anything else?”

“Aside from modifying RK900’s zen garden program and creating encrypted coordinates? No. Not really. I think eventually they were just keeping me around for the hostage potential.”

Kamski paused, and took a few sips from the cup of water Lennox had brought him. Then he leaned back in his chair and grinned.

“See, what the cons really wanted was Amanda. They never said as much in front of me, but why else would they go after the only two models designed to be remotely controlled by her? That trap was a backup plan. They hijacked one of the satellites CyberLife owns, and stuck my false coordinates onto it. All it took was ‘Amanda’ overriding Connor, and boom, one set of scrambled coordinates delivered to the autobots. And if things had gone to plan, one RK800 delivered to the Decepticons.”

“Why the back up plan?” Lennox frowned. “If RK900 can connect to Amanda why didn't they use him?”

“RK900 had never been synced up to her network, and Connor was supposed to have conveniently disappeared in the explosion at the Packard Plant.” Kamski said. “Having autobots hanging around Detroit that day probably saved a whole lot of android lives.”

“What did the cons want with Amanda anyway?” Hank asked. “Some kind of inside information from CyberLife?”

“She can control androids.” Kamski said. “What do you think they wanted with her?”

Connor froze, remembering RK900’s desperate pleas for help. “They wanted slaves. Amanda would have been a relatively discrete way to get them. All they would need to do is patch a zen garden program into the android population during an update cycle.”

Kamski nodded. “Exactly. Humans don’t listen very well, but androids? All it takes is the right lines of code and you’d have an army that would do whatever you want.”

“And they didn’t think to get Amanda’s location directly from you?” Lennox’s stylus tapped across the screen of her tablet as she wrote. 

“CyberLife moved a lot of things around after I left.” Kamski shrugged. “Even if I’d wanted to tell the decepticons where she was, I couldn’t have. Not without getting into a CyberLife plant anyways, and for some reason they didn’t trust me enough to bring me to one.”

“Speaking of Amanda.” Hank said. “Once those autobots are cured. I want that bitch locked out of Connors head. Permanently.”

“I suppose I owe it to him. He did help save my life.” Kamski shrugged. “Any other requests?”

“Just one.” Lennox said. “You’ve obviously come into contact with cybertronians before now. I want to know how.”

Kamski had never grinned as broadly as he did when he answered. “Well that's simple really. I grew up in a little place called Mission City. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. My younger self liked collecting rocks, and I found a rather... interesting one there.” 

The stylus in Lennox’s hand stopped where it was and she looked up from the screen to stare at Kamski. 

“Is everything alright Lennox?” Connor asked.

“We’ve talked enough.” Lennox ignored him and stood abruptly, tucking the tablet into a briefcase by her side. She pinned a dangerous glare on Kamski. “I want those autobots cured as soon as possible.”

As she walked out of the room, Hank moved to follow. Connor started to leave, then paused and looked back at Kamski. The words took longer than they should have to come out. “RK900 is a deviant.” Connor reached into his jacket pocket, fiddling with his coin as he spoke. “I don’t want anyone to be able to control him again either.” 

“Ah yes. The RK900. It was supposed to be almost impossible for it to turn deviant, and yet...” Kamski looked out his window and across the hallway at RK900. “Consider it done. On one condition.” 

Connor had expected nothing less. “And what would that be?”

“He took Chloe and the other androids the day I was kidnapped. I want to know what happened to them. Get the info out of his processor and I can guarantee that neither of your programs will be overridden again..”

His thirium pump stuttered at the thought of Chloe. Chloe who had already had a scrape with death, and at his own hands. If finding those memories would help the androids, or at least ensure a decent ending for them, then Connor was all for it. He just hoped RK900 would be too. “I agree.” 


	14. Awake

The base was significantly more crowded by the time Kamski was escorted through the halls and into the medical bay. Somehow word had gotten out, and every autobot that could arrange a flight seemed to have done so.

Lennox was quickly called in to keep Connor and Hank out of harm's way, even as the new bots did their best to get a look at the android that was suddenly in their midst. A trio of motorcycles took advantage of spaces others couldn’t get into, a cobalt blue sedan driving beside Ratchet threw a scan over him as they passed, and he caught occasional glimpses of a ferrari as it shimmered in and out of view using some kind of cloaking technology.

Hank had taken a quick liking to a group of flashy, foulmouthed, rally cars and a military jeep that appeared to be drunk. Lennox had introduced them as The Wreckers and Hound respectively. Connor's analysis of ‘appeared to be drunk’ quickly changed to ‘definitely drunk’ as one named Roadbuster tried to offer him a sip from a barrel of foul smelling oil that neither Lennox nor her father could identify. 

At least they hadn’t tried to scan him.

“Are the autobots always like this?” Connor asked as they were dragged away from the group, to Hank's mild disappointment. 

“Between the autobots being cured today and an android being allowed on the island they have a lot to be interested in. We tried to tell them not to be overbearing but some...” Lennox spared a brief glare at a mech with swords hanging from it’s back that had edged a bit too close, and it backed off. “Listen better than others.”

“Annabelle you’re being too nice.” William laughed. “These guys are just overgrown children when they really want to be.” 

“Very dangerous children.” Hank snorted. “Surely they see androids when they’re out on patrol?”

“They do but they’re not allowed to get close to them. Humans don’t notice if a car is running on blue blood, but an android might.” 

“Yeah that’s a fair point.” Hank admitted. 

Any further conversation was cut off as the yellow blur that was Bumblebee drifted to a stop in front of them, tires squealing as he locked up his brakes. He was still partially obscured by the dust he’d thrown up when he finished his transformation, and had to wave it aside to properly see the three humans and the android at his feet. Then his eyes brightened and he bounced on his feet as a line from a medical show played over his speakers. “Patient is stable, I repeat the patient is stable.”

Lennox and William brightened instantly. “Did Ratchet send you?” Lennox asked.

Bumblebee nodded and transformed back into his car form. Every door swung open.

-

Where the vacuum sealed doors had once been, the hallway was wide open and, aside from Prowl, every one of the previously sick autobots were awake and fully active when Bumblebee pulled up.

Optimus Prime smiled as the four of them climbed out and Bumblebee transformed. “Hello Connor. It is good to see you without the plastic suit on. Ironhide has informed me of your excellent marksmanship and quick thinking during the mission.”

“I’m programmed to be proficient in combat.” Connor shuffled slightly under the Primes gaze. “I’m glad I was able to live up to that.”

“He also told me that you saved the RK900 unit.”

There was nothing judgemental in Optimus’s voice, but Connor felt the need to justify himself anyway. “He was bleeding out. I didn’t want him to die.”

Kamski appeared from behind the Prime, flanked by Mikaela Banes and looking none too happy about it. As he picked up on the conversation a smirk tugged at the side of his mouth. “Ah, Connor, just the android I was hoping to speak with, and just the topic to.” Kamski glanced up at Optimus with more casualness than anyone recovering from being held captive by cybertronians had a right to. “Did you know, Connor asked me to help RK900. After all, someone needs to break the control the cons had over him.”

Lennox ignored Kamski and spoke directly to Mikaela “So. What exactly did it take?”

“Oh, not much.” Mikaela rolled her eyes. “Just a highly specific line of code programmed to only respond to his voice and DNA signature. Stuck up bastard."

Static burst over Bumblebees radio for a second and music began playing. “You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel…”

“Bumblebee!” Optimus frowned. “I find him off putting as well, but he has just saved many lives.”

“Yeah, what he… said…” Kamski trailed off and stared up at Optimus. 

Connor had never seen Kamski looked confused before, and made sure to save a picture. Just in case. He could always crop out the robots in the background.

-

A few hours later, in the quiet of RK900’s room, Connor watched as Kamski examined RK900 from seemingly every angle. Technicians adjusted the android as Kamski directed them. Occasionally he would step forward and run a hand over one of the panels, popping it open and taking note of the components underneath. As he reached the back of RK900’s neck a small hum escaped him and he stepped back. “Well would you look at that. Bumblebee can call me an eel all he wants but at least the markings my androids had to wear are removable.”

Connor leaned forward to look, not quite comprehending the pointed, face-like marking that decorated RK900’s neck. It was colored a purple so dark that it was almost black and as Connor watched it glitched almost imperceptibly, like a bugged display readout. “What is it?”

“It’s the decepticons symbol.” Kamski tapped on the area. Fake skin peeled away, and with it the marking. After a few seconds without input the skin and the marking reappeared. “I didn’t put that there. The decepticons altered his skin textures. Starscream probably.”

“Can you get rid of it?” Connor asked.

“Once I can see his coding I’ll let you know for sure, but if it’s still there after his self repair systems have been active then it’s probably permanent.” Kamski motioned for the assistants to set RK900 down. “If it is, I’m sure he’ll want to hide it, but aside from that it shouldn’t affect anything.” 

It would affect his psyche, Connor wanted to say. But he bit back the retort, glad for once that Hank was waiting outside. Hank would have said something to get on Kamski’s nerves. 

“In any case,” Kamski scrolled through the readouts on one of the screens. “He’s locked into his Zen Garden program. We need to get him out before we make any modifications to it’s code. Which is why you’re here Connor. Once you’ve gotten him out I’ll delete the Zen Garden program from both of your systems. I’m sure you know what to look for, but remember, he has to activate it.”

The backdoor. The stone. Connor nodded and rolled his coin over his knuckles a few times to steady himself. He had been looking forward to this part the least. Nevertheless Connor climbed onto the second table, and allowed Kamski and the technicians to open up panels on his head. As one technician hooked up his processor to the machines, the other began strapping RK900 back down. Once the last of the metal bars had been bolted into place Connor stretched out his arm and took RK900’s hand in his own. 

Synthetic skin, both Connors and the RK900’s, peeled back at the touch and Connor requested access. Somewhere deep in RK900’s processor, a consciousness stirred to life and responded. 

Connor was pulled out of his body and into a simulation.


	15. The Pit

He was standing in a metallic wasteland.

Rusty, half collapsed grandstands rose around him, and beyond that, crumbling skyscrapers. Occasionally a gust of wind stirred up dust and rattled the massive gate at the far end of the arena, but other than that the program was utterly lifeless. Towering over him, across from the gate, was a statue. A stylized imitation of Megatron. It’s right arm, decorated with a cannon, was raised in triumph and it’s mouth curled into a sneer. 

Barely visible in the stands was a patch of white, the only break in the grey that pervaded this dead place. 

Connor moved towards it, metal creaking as he climbed steps as tall as he was. The curled up form of RK900 became clearer the closer he got. When he was a few feet away he knelt, and ran a scan. 

**Stress level 87%**

“You don’t need to be afraid.” RK900 wasn’t looking at him, but Connor kept his expression calm anyway. “My name is Connor, I want to help you.”

RK900 shivered, his body blurring at the edges. In the simulation his black and white cyberlife uniform was spotless.

Curious, Connor looked down at himself and realized he was back in his uniform as well. It had been so long since he’d worn it that it felt as alien as the simulated world he was standing in.

“I saw you a few days ago while we were connected, do you remember?”

RK900 lifted his head, revealing a bright red LED. His eyes met Connor’s and he nodded slowly.

“Good. Is it ok if I help you up?”

No response. RK900 lowered his head so he was looking at the ground again.

“That’s okay. I’m going to look around. I’m going to try and find the way out of here. If you feel up to it, you can help. Look for a stone with a handprint on it” 

RK900 nodded.

“Alright.” Connor stood, his scanners activating as he searched for any abnormalities in the program. This would be difficult, he realized. The arena was larger than the zen garden, but also emptier and the stone was nowhere in sight. Perhaps that had been one of the modifications the decepticons had forced Kamski to make. He wished RK900 would help, but Connor didn’t want to pressure him anymore than necessary. 

A spiral search pattern would be most efficient, so he climbed to the top of the stands and began to circle. 

When the stands turned out to be a dead end. Connor dropped into the arena and spared a brief glance back at RK900. The other android hadn’t moved from his spot, but he was watching Connor now. A tremble went through RK900 when he realized Connor was looking and he went back to staring at the floor.

Connor wondered what the decepticons had done to him. Wondered how long he’d been deviant. How long he’d even been active before the decepticons found him. He continued his spiral pattern around the arena, mulling over RK900’s situation to pass the time. 

Eventually something pinged on his display. He was standing at the statue's feet, in a depression on the floor. 

Excitement thrilled through his systems and he knelt, brushing away the dust with his hands. Sure enough, a rectangle of floor was blurred ever so slightly at the edges, the textures not quite matching the rest of the arena. He pressed a hand to it, tearing into the patchwork coding until a stairway became visible through the shredded floor. And at the bottom of the stairway was the stone.

He stood, his attention snapping to RK900. He was tempted to call out, but that would likely startle him. Instead Connor composed himself and walked back across the arena and into the grandstand. RK900 was sitting upright now, his LED yellow and his stress levels lowered to sixty eight percent.

“I’ve found the way out.” Connor offered a hand. “I’ll show you where to go, but you’ll have to activate the stone yourself. Do you understand?”

Connor could feel RK900 trembling as he took his hand. A harsh gust of wind buffeted them as Connor helped RK900 to his feet and the other android flinched.

“It’s okay.” Connor remembered the snowstorm when he had escaped from his own zen garden, the bitter cold, the fear. He squeezed RK900’s hand. “I’ll help you.”

RK900 nodded and let Connor lead him down the steps. Connor felt him flinch at every creak and gust of wind, but his stress level remained steady.

They were almost to the bottom when the step buckled underneath them. Connor let his programming take control, calculated the best route to the arena floor, and jumped, pulling RK900 with him. Metal crashed behind them as they hit the ground. Connor saw their bodies flicker with the impact. 

He turned to RK900 “Are you okay?” 

RK900’s hand was still clutched tightly in Connor’s, but he wasn’t moving. He was looking up at something. Connor followed RK900’s gaze and found himself staring directly into the statue's eyes.

Eyes that were looking right at them. The arm that had been raised was pointing past them at the newly destroyed section of the stands. As they watched, bodies tense, the statue hummed and its arm rose back into position. Connor stared around the arena at the other collapsed areas, noting the similarities in collapse patterns.

“It can see me.” RK900’s voice was deeper than Connors, but staticy, and a scan confirmed that his stress levels had shot back up. “It won’t let me move.”

The statue's eyes flashed and its arm twitched threateningly as RK900 spoke.

“I’ve been walking around and talking and it hasn’t done anything to me. It can’t see me.” Connor met RK900’s nervous eyes. “Let me lead the way. The less active your program is, the better. Don’t try to predict where I’m going.” 

RK900 stared at him for a long time. “I trust you.”

Even in the simulation, Connor felt a weight settle on his shoulders.

The program would have an easier time predicting a machine's behavior, so Connor let instinct lead the way, trying not to wince when the statue's arm snapped down and the floor behind him and RK900 went up in explosions. 

Explosions that were always just a little bit behind, or too far to one side or the other. His plan seemed to be working.

They were almost to the stairs when the storm started. Connor resisted the urge to curse. Dark red dust pelted his virtual skin and the wind threatened to blow him off course as he pressed on towards where his navigation system said the stone was. He felt rather than saw RK900 stumble and tugged him back to his feet without even stopping. 

Then the floor dropped beneath them and they tumbled down the stairs, somehow still holding hands as they rolled to a stop at the bottom. The stone glowed only a few feet away.

RK900 was trembling as Connor helped him to his feet.

“We’re almost there. just put your hand on the panel. That’s all you need to do.”

Dust was pouring down the stairs, piling up around them and rapidly burying their shoes. RK900 shook his head.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” Connor tugged RK900 forward, pushing through what he realized was actually rust. “I know you can. Once you're out of this program it can be deleted. You’ll never have to see this place again.” 

Before the rust could rise past their knees Connor led RK900 forward again. It would be easy for RK900 to reach out and touch the stone, but he continued to tremble. “You said you trust me right?”

RK900 nodded.

“And I got you past that statue right?”

Another nod.

“So trust me again. Put your hand on that stone. You’ll be okay. I promise.” 

The stone was rapidly being buried by rust as RK900 pressed his palm against the handprint.

-

Connors eyes opened to the sight of a sterile white ceiling and Hanks' face looking down at him.

“Connor? Connor please tell me you’re alright.”

Of course Hank was worried. Connor smiled. “I’m okay lieutenant. My systems might be sluggish for a little while, but I’ll be fine.” Connor rolled his head to the side to look at RK900, and was relieved to see his grey eyes were open, flicking back and forth as he took in the room. “RK900, are you okay?”

The other android stared down at his restraints and trembled. 

“I’m sorry about those, but we didn’t know what state you’d be in when you woke up. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

RK900 gave a slow nod. 

“Good. You need to stay here just a little bit longer. That man right there is going to look at your programing and make sure that place is gone for good.”

The pressure when RK900 squeezed Connors hand was real this time.

“Alright. Just one more thing, and then he’ll help you. I need to know what happened to the androids at Kamski’s house. That’s all.”

RK900’s hand tensed in his.

“Just show me. You don’t have to say anything.”

Slowly, reluctantly, the memories flowed through him. Badly corrupted, they consisted entirely of brief flashes where RK900 had some semblance of control. 

Kamski’s door, Chloe curled up motionless on the ground, three RT600’s in the back seat of a police car, their faces sinking away beneath the water, a highway, the holographic cop next to him as they drove past a road sign... 

Connor terminated the connection, gave RK900’s hand a comforting squeeze, and nodded towards Kamski. 

“Got it?” Kamski stepped through the door and walked over to the terminal, fingers flexing as he prepared to type.

“Got it.” Conner confirmed.


	16. Return

“He wants to do what?!”

“He trusts me Lieutenant.” Connor stared through the window at RK900. He was facing away from them, the mark on his neck hidden by a turtleneck someone had given him. Where Connor found comfort in coin tricks, RK900 seemed to prefer string figures. He had found a loop of blue string somewhere, and was weaving it through his fingers at a speed that seemed almost impossible. Connor barely had time to notice the shapes before RK900 untied them and made new ones. “You’ve seen how he is, He won’t let anyone else in the room.”

“I think everyone's noticed that. But what would we do with him?” Hank massaged his temples. “He was designed to be a killer and his mind is a mess. We can’t exactly bring him to crime scenes. Imagine what he’d do if he saw a body, or someone shot at him. We wouldn’t even be able to leave him alone without worrying about him self-destructing.”

They both looked into the room. RK900’s LED was glowing yellow, but Connor noticed the occasional flash of red. 

“You’re sure New Jericho isn’t an option? We both know Markus would help him.”

“We can’t leave him surrounded by strangers. Besides, it would be too crowded and too noisy. He’d be overwhelmed.” Connor said. “Maybe once he’s had time to recover we can bring him there, but not right away.”

“Connor I get where you’re coming from, I really do, but we can’t manage him and our jobs.” 

“Then I’ll take time off.” Connor said. Hank opened his mouth to interject but Connor kept talking. “The DPD can survive without me for a few months, but I’m not sure he can. You didn’t see what it was like in his head. He couldn’t even move without putting himself in danger and his stress level was so high that if he’d been in control of his body he probably would have self destructed. If he’s latched onto me as a source of comfort, then I don’t want to take that away from him until he’s ready.”

Something in Connors mannerisms must have gotten to Hank because he released a pent up sigh. “Alright. Fine then. But you’re gonna have to explain to Jeffery that you’re ditching him to play therapist for your traumatized clone.” 

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” Connor looked over at RK900 and smiled. 

-

The autobots had insisted on keeping Kamski on base for a few more days. Lennox hadn’t been keen to share why, but Connor expected they wanted to interrogate him a bit more before releasing him. In any case, having DPD members returning with Kamski and an RK900 with no reasonable explanation was sure to raise some eyebrows. Instead Lennox left them with a mostly plausible cover story about tracking down the rogue RK900.

As they walked out of the base for the last time, Lennox had pressed a strange looking hard drive into Hanks hand and nodded towards Connor and RK900 “Have those two use this when you get home. It’ll tell the signal blocker nanobots to deactivate permanently and exit their systems.” 

Hank turned it over in his hands, frowning, “And what’s stopping me from giving it to them sooner? Not that I would after seeing the stuff in that NDA.”

“See that panel? I set it to activate for Sumo’s DNA signature while you and Connor were fighting over whether to go or not.” Lennox grinned. “No fresh dog DNA, no deactivation code.”

“Are you pulling my leg?”

“Oh no, I’m deadly serious.”

Hank stared at her for a long time before pocketing the flash drive and walking off towards the plane.

Connor watched him go, amusement sparking through his coding, before shaking Lennox’s hand. “It was a pleasure to work with you.”

“Likewise. Maybe I’ll pay a visit next time I’m in the area.”

“I don’t know how Hank would feel about that, but I wouldn’t mind.”

“Got it. Sneak in when the old man's not around.” Lennox winked. “Now go catch your plane.”

Connor smiled and turned to follow Hank, RK900 close on his heels.

William had arranged their flight home. The private jet looked nothing like the fighter jets that Starscream preferred for an alt mode, but RK900 balked at the sight of it anyway. It took an explanation of every security check the plane had been through to convince him to get on board. Even then he flinched at anything louder than a footstep, whether it was a slamming door, someone yelling outside, or a beeping console. When the engines started RK900 pressed himself uncomfortably close to Connors side. A slight wince escaped Connor as RK900 found and almost crushed his hand.

Hank had barely hidden his grin.

Once they were in the air and flying smoothly, RK900 relaxed a little. But only a little. His gaze snapped from one blacked out window to the other, and he fidgeted incessantly with the string. The same pattern, seemingly one of RK900’s favorites, took shape over and over and Connor watched in mild fascination, compiling the sequence in which RK900’s fingers moved the string around.

Hank apparently wasn’t as easily amused, and his tenseness at being in the air didn’t help. They’d only been flying a few hours when he looked at RK900 and spoke up.

“You should think of a name.”

RK900 started, dropping a loop of string that had been halfway onto his index finger. He looked from Hank to Connor, and frowned.

“It’s okay.” Connor said. “Hank is my friend, remember?”

RK900 nodded and the string started moving again. But he was looking at Hank now. 

“Do you have any names in mind?” Connor kept his tone soft.

RK900 shook his head.

“If you think of one, let one of us know. Alright?”

A nod. Silence filled the cabin.

“Jacob.” Hank was staring at the string when he spoke, an odd look on his face. “Do you like the name Jacob?”

RK900 looked down at the string, then back to Hank. For the first time Connor saw RK900 smile. “Yes.” His voice crackled from disuse, but the tone was genuine.

Hank smiled back at the newly named android and motioned towards the string. “May I?”

Jacob unwound the string from his fingers and passed it to Hank, who perfectly executed the pattern Jacob had been doing for the last several hours. Then he gave the string back. It was immediately weaving through Jacobs fingers again.

Connor was unsure what had just happened, but if Jacob was happy, then he wasn’t going to question it. 

-

They introduced Jacob to Finn first. Mainly because it was impossible for Finn to knock a person to the ground out of sheer happiness. Sumo was a slightly slower process, but once the saint bernard realized the new member of the household was more affectionate when approached slowly, the two quickly warmed up to each other. Less than an hour after being introduced Jacob was curled up on the couch with Sumo, running his hands through the dog's thick fur. 

Connor took the opportunity to retreat into the kitchen and talk to Hank.

“Back on the plane, how did you do that?”

“That figure he kept making, it’s called Jacob's ladder. ” Hank paused, his expression settling into a bittersweet smile. “It was one of… It was Cole’s favorite.”

“Oh.” The mention of Hank’s son stopped Connor short. 

“Yeah.” Hank stifled a yawn. “Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna take a long nap in my own bed. Don’t wake me up unless the house is on fire or something.”

Connor watched Hank until he disappeared into his room, then joined Jacob and Sumo on the crowded couch. 

-

Hank didn’t go to sleep right away. 

Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed and examined the flash drive. Connor and Jacob had already used it, downloading the code through their hands. Hank didn’t know a whole lot about flash drives, certainly not ones with weird DNA sensing panels on top, but it seemed heavier than it should be. He lifted to his ear and gave it a gentle shake.

Something sloshed inside. 

Well now he’d have to open it. He worked his fingernails into a gap in the casing and, feeling it shift ever so slightly, began to pull it open. Before long he had it all the way open, revealing a box of glowing blue liquid that fit comfortably in his palm.

Tucked underneath the cube of what could only be energon, was a note.

_ My partner wanted you to have this. Just in case Connor decides he needs to ‘let his hair down’ at some point. Make sure to get a video if he does anything funny. If anyone asks I didn’t give you this. _

_ \- A  _

Hank read the note two more times, not bothering to hide the grin on his face. Maybe the giant robots weren’t so bad after all.


	17. Epilogue

The first time Connor walked into Markus’s office after the mission he’d been on in March, he had a nervous RK900 unit at his side and a strange look in his eyes.

Aside from his black hair and blue-grey eyes, the RK900 was identical to Connor. Markus’s first thought had been something along the lines of “Well what do you know, there’s two of them now.” His second thought had been “What the hell did Connor see on that mission?”

Connor still talked and acted the same, but something was off. Markus decided not to say anything about it, and smiled politely as Connor introduced the RK900 as Jacob, and explained that he wanted to bring him to visit New Jericho occasionally. That Jacob needed to ease into trusting and interacting with people, and Jericho would be an ideal place to start. 

Markus had nodded along, recording the conversation to review later, because at that moment a great deal of his processing power had been focused on Connor. The detective was leaving something out and Markus’s curiosity was piqued. 

Jacob had fidgeted incessantly with the back of his turtleneck, but hadn’t said a word.

-

The second time Connor arrived at New Jericho, again accompanied by Jacob, Markus had been preparing for an important phone call and suggested Connor introduce Jacob to Simon instead. After Connor had left, Markus asked Simon how things had gone. 

“Every now and then I’d say something and they’d both get this look. Connor hides it pretty well, but it’s there. Jacob can’t hide it at all. Whatever it is, I’m willing to bet it has something to do with Jacobs' condition.” Simon had frowned. “I’d say that was all there is to it, but you’re right. I just get this feeling that they know something big.”

Markus had nodded in agreement. “It’s something about the eyes, that's the first thing I noticed. Does Jacob seem to be improving?”

“He said hello to me.” Simon said. “Apparently I’m less intimidating than you are.”

-

The third time Connor and Jacob visited, Markus led them through the quieter areas of New Jericho to a small meeting room, where Simon, Josh and despite his misgivings, North, were waiting. 

Small bottles of thirium had been set out on the table, and Markus offered them to the guests. Connor had politely refused, but Jacob chugged his bottle as though his life depended on it. Even Markus had forced himself not to stare.

Despite that, everyone had greeted Jacob nicely enough, and while he never managed more than a few hello’s, Jacob did seem to be listening. Markus had even spotted him smiling a few times. About ten minutes had passed when Connor paused, mid sentence in his conversation with Josh, and looked up at the ceiling. A few seconds later a passenger jet rumbled by overhead and Jacob screamed and curled in on himself.

Connor was at his look-alikes side in an instant. Markus watched, fascinated as Connor pulled a loop of string from the pocket where a quarter usually resided and gave it to Jacob. The RK900 instantly began weaving it through his fingers in a pattern Markus recognized as Jacob's ladder. A string game popular among some of the YK500s. He remembered Connor murmuring “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.” over and over until the plane was out of their hearing range.

Mores pieces to this strange puzzle.

-

The fourth time they visited Markus tried something a little different, and introduced Jacob to Kara's family. 

Alice had grinned in delight when she saw the string on Jacobs fingers, and before long the two were passing it between each other in a game of cat’s cradle.

And as the adult androids looked on, not one of them daring to interrupt the moment, Alice had asked Jacob a question.

“Where did you learn to do these? I learned them from my friends.” 

“I… I found a book.”

Jacobs' voice was deeper than Connors, but every syllable trembled. Markus had wondered how long it had been since Jacob had spoken to anyone other than Connor. He remembered Connor’s startled expression when Jacob spoke.

“I like books.” Alice had smiled. “Do you still have it? Maybe you could show it to me sometime,”

“No. I lost it.”

“Oh. That’s ok. Maybe you can get a new one. Do you remember what it looked like?”

Jacob didn’t say anything, but he set the string aside and lifted a hand. The image of a white book, half covered in blue and decorated with images of various string games, had appeared. Markus had noticed with a shiver that the blue looked distinctly like fresh thirium stains.

The fifth time Jacob and Connor visited, Alice ran up to Jacob and pressed a copy of the book into his hands.

-

Just over a month after Jacob's first visit, Connor left Jacob with Kara’s family for the afternoon and insisted that Markus follow him out of New Jericho. Curious, Markus had followed, and soon found himself standing next to Hank's idling car.

Markus frowned. “I have a busy schedule this afternoon. I should stay here.”

Connor shook his head. “This is more important. Trust me, it took a lot of calls to arrange this and I don’t know If I can get him here again anytime soon.”

“Him?” Markus could see amusement in Connors eyes. Was this a prank? Connor wasn’t one for pranks, but then again Connor hadn’t been quite the same since March. “Connor, who exactly do you want me to meet?”

“He’s a leader. Real important one.” Hank snapped from the driver's seat. “Now get in already.”

At that point Markus almost turned around and went back inside, but something stopped him. He had to admit, he was curious. 

“Oh alright. I could use a change of scenery anyway.”

-

They pulled up outside an old storage building, it’s weather faded brickwork old and unassuming but well maintained. Markus frowned. “What sort of leader arranges a meeting in a warehouse?”

“The really big kind.” Hank pulled the key out of the ignition and climbed out of the car.

“There’s no need to be nervous though.” Connor added as he opened Markus’s door for him. “He’s a big fan of yours.”

Markus was seriously beginning to suspect a prank.

“I don’t know what’s going on here but…”

“Connor!” 

The call had come from the entrance to the warehouse. As Markus stood, he watched it’s source, a fierce looking blond woman who reminded him of North, jog over to them. 

“It’s good to see you guys again.” The woman grinned. “How’s Jacob doing?”

“He’s been making good progress.” Connor answered “Markus and his people have been a great help.”

“Ah yes Markus.” She offered Markus a handshake and he accepted it, noting how firm her grip was. She definitely reminded him of North. “I’m Annabelle. It’s nice to finally meet you. If you could just follow us inside, he’s waiting. My partner’s here too.”

Connor smiled and fell into step behind her. “I had a feeling he would be.”

Left with little other option, Markus followed Connor.

“I’ll stay here.” Hank called after them. “I’ve already had a chat with them. Besides, someone has to keep people away. It shouldn’t be too hard with a face like mine.”

When the door closed behind them and his eyes had time to adjust Markus found himself in a small office area. A door with safety lines around it led to the warehouse floor, but they didn’t step through it right away. 

“Alright, Markus. Before you go through that door I just want to warn you.” Annabelle leaned forward threateningly. “Not a word about what happens in here gets out to anyone. I’m sure you’ve been to enough government functions to know the drill, but the NDA attached to these guys doesn’t mess around. Leak anything to the public and you’re looking at extremely serious consequences.”

Markus looked from Annabelle to Connor. “Connor if this is some elaborate prank…”

“I’ve seen the NDA. Believe me this isn’t a prank.” Connor said. 

“Alright.” Markus frowned. “Say I believe you. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

When Connor looked at him, Markus saw that same look in his eyes that he’d noticed before, when Connor had first walked into his office with Jacob. 

Connor didn’t need to say anything. Markus went to the door and pushed it open.

He could never have prepared himself for what awaited on the other side. 

Robots. One black, one red and blue. Both were more than twenty feet tall and Markus had never felt as tiny as when their glowing blue optics met his mismatched eyes.

He heard Connor and Annabelle’s footsteps behind him. Connor greeted the taller robot with a respectful nod and walked past him to the black armoured one. It gave him a friendly shove with a finger the size of a man's leg. Then they both turned to watch Markus. 

Annabelle smiled. “Markus. I would like you to meet Optimus Prime, and his weapons specialist, Ironhide. Optimus, Ironhide, meet Markus.”

The red and blue one, Optimus, knelt closer and Markus realized with a start that he was covered in windows and truck parts. A glance at Ironhide confirmed that he was similarly armoured. 

“Hello Markus.” Optimus spoke with a voice that struck Markus to his very core. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

The words that would have come so easily if he’d been talking to an ambassador, or congressman, or crowd, refused to form. Markus could only stare, open mouthed at the strange being that was currently looking down at him. Finally he managed something. “What… Who are you?”

If Optimus was offended he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he extended a hand. “It would be easier if I showed you.”

Markus stared at the hand, and then looked down at his own. He let the skin peel back, placed it in the center of Optimus’s palm, and accepted the interface prompt.

He saw towering cities, streets so full of multicolored robots that it looked like a living rainbow. He saw caves full of blue crystals that stretched for hundreds upon hundreds of miles, and the battered robots that laboured there. He saw an arena, full of cheering fans and flying blue blood and death. A massive grey robot offered a hand to him, and he shook it. 

He saw gunfire and explosions, and cities falling. 

A cube, engraved with runes and symbols, floated away into the darkness of space. 

Their source of new life, their most precious artefact, gone.

The grey robot pointed a cannon at him, shouting accusations, blame, hatred. Then he was looking out a window at a metal planet, cold and grey and dead. Spaceships scattered in every direction, the last residents of Cybertron, fleeing for their lives.

Then there were humans, a boy and a girl. Soldiers. 

There were more battles, human cities this time, with humans fighting beside them. He was being pushed through a building, he was being shot at, he was being stabbed. He was dead and then alive again, spitting sand from his systems. A collapsing skyscraper rained glass on him as he flew underneath it. 

There was a news report, an android passing the turing test and a man named Kamski talking about a chemical he’d invented named thirium. His autobots were angry, but he was curious. And then Markus was on a TV screen. Protesting peacefully and succeeding. He wanted to meet Markus. Tell him how glad he was that Markus had succeeded where he had failed. Glad that Markus hadn’t left Detroit as dead as he had left Cybertron. 

Markus opened his eyes, and looked up at Optimus. At the sadness in the Autobots blue eyes. “You couldn’t save your planet. Or your people.”

“I tried. I tried so hard.” Optimus closed his eyes and sighed. “Megatron is like a brother to me. I never wanted to fight him. But he saw violence as the only way.” 

“North was like that. For a long time she thought humans would only listen if we chose to fight them.” Markus lifted his hand, bringing up a holographic picture of North. A smile crossed his lips as he remembered her stepping up next to him, the first to join his song when they’d been cornered in the plaza. 

“I remember her from the news reports.” Optimus said.

Markus nodded and looked over at Connor. “A friend once told me that, statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place. North came around in the end. So did Connor. Maybe one day Megatron will change to.”

“I hope so.” Optimus said.

A brief silence fell, and Markus frowned. Everyone in the room was staring at him. It was Ironhide who spoke first, addressing Optimus. 

“You showed him Cybertron?”

“I did.” Optimus turned to Ironhide. “It is a part of him, even if he has never been there.”

That gave Markus a pause. He had seen blue blood in the memories, he’d seen… that cube. 

Markus turned to Connor, suddenly understanding what had changed in his friend's demeanor. “Connor, are we…”

“Not entirely based on human tech?” Connor smiled. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you but between the NDA and lack of believable proof I couldn’t.”

“What about Jacob? How’d he get mixed up in all this? And Kamski. He must know about Cybertronians then.”

Annabelle stepped up before Connor could answer. “Kamski knows way more than he should if you ask me, especially after recent events. As for Jacob, that’s his story to tell, not ours.” 


End file.
